Choices Made
by Santiaga
Summary: A couple of small mistakes lead to a big disaster and as a result one long difficult change becomes almost infinite, when one of them wounded. Each member of the group blames himself for what happened. Whether they will pass this crisis, maintain friendship, self-confidence, faith in each other and love? Can they keep Team One as it was before?
1. Chapter 1

A couple of small mistakes lead to a big disaster and as a result one long difficult change becomes almost infinite, when one of them wounded. Each member of the group blames himself for what happened. Whether they will pass this crisis, maintain friendship, self-confidence, faith in each other and love? Can they keep Team One as it was before? The friendship between Ed and Greg, Sam and Spike oriented, also a little Sam / Jules in later chapters. Full-length team-fic

Genre: Friendship, Hurt / Comfort, Drama.

Season: 5 th

Spoilers: a lot, it is difficult to specify all of them

Warning: English is not my native language. Writing stories is my original way to improve my English (ha-ha!) I'm sorry for the mistakes. I try very hard to write correctly.

Disclaimer: I own neither Flashpoint, not the characters involved. I make no money from this works, they are for entertainment only.

**Charli911**, thank you so much for the beta'ing, I really don't know what to do without you!

_**Choices Made. **_

Chapter 1.

Ed Lane stopped the black SUV in front of the headquarters SRU, switched off the engine and wearily leaned back in the driver's seat. Frowning, he gazed through the windshield as the wipers kept a steady rhythm, the rain falling in a constant shower.

Outside, a new dawn was barely visible through the fast-moving low dark clouds.

Sullenly, he watched as Sam and Jules came out of the other SUV that just parked next to them and wearily trudged towards the building, bending under the windflaw. _Hell_,_ his team needs a rest,_ he thought grimly, sighing. _As well as he does._

Ed lowered his aching head on the headrest and closed his eyes, allowing himself a few minutes of stillness, perhaps for the first time tonight.

The hot call received at the beginning of the shift made all team members work at the limit of their physical and psychological endurance.

Well, not that it was something unusual.

But today, the storm that covered Toronto, complicated the situation considerably and the last few hours for all of them have become a living hell.

Four armed robbers raided one of the small shops selling weapons on the outskirts of Toronto, shot and killed two people and took one store employee hostage, tried to escape by car, which was waiting for them. A vehicular pursuit followed, and it rapidly moved beyond the city limits. Police managed to quickly block the roads in the area, and at one point it seemed that the chase was close to a successful conclusion But then, realizing that the way to escape was blocked, they left their SUV, fortunately with a live hostage in it and tried to escape through the forest.

They almost made it - the night and terrible weather were on their side. As a result, the pursuit lasted several long hours and required the use of a variety of additional forces.

At the end, Team Two was called to support, police assigned more people and dog-handlers, and finally the criminals were detected and localized.

Then a long and difficult grueling negotiations followed, attempting to resolve the situation peacefully. Unsuccessfully. Those guys were not going to give up. The result - a quick but intense battle in which all subjects were "neutralized".

Now, the adrenaline that had kept them in action during the night was gone.

Many hours of a night chase through the woods, in the pouring freezing rain, foundering up to their knees in clingy mud , trudging through wet bush, tough negotiations and the battle - that took from them their all. All team members were bone-tired, soaked through and filthy.

But it was too early to rest, their shift is not over yet.

...

Ed Lane sat in the SUV, trying to get his exhausted body to move. He felt like he hadn't slept in several days.

"Eddie?" A quiet voice of his commander and friend, Greg Parker came to him with the passenger seat.

"Hmmm?" Ed did not move.

"Sorry to disappoint you, buddy, but you can't sleep in here,", Greg's huge yawn finished the sentence.

"Why not? because it's you going to sleep here?" Ed did not open his eyes but slightly raised one eyebrow, not having enough energy to do anything more.

"You'll get kink in your neck," Greg muttered, "And we still have three hours left in our shift," he added with a sigh.

"Well," Ed huffed tiredly, "Thanks for reminding me."

"So... Get out of the car, "Greg's voice getting quiet, as if he really was falling asleep.

"Is that an order, Boss?" Ed reluctantly opened his eyes. He looked to the right and a smile tugged at his lips. In the neighboring seat in a similar position, with his head tilted back and eyes closed was sitting Greg. Traces of the night chase could be seen on his face. A long scratch from a some random branch, ran across his forehead, smeared mud dried on his cheek, and a yellow oak leaf was peeping from under the collar of his uniform. Deep shadows of fatigue lay under his eyes. "Greg?"

"I'm awake. And yes, that's an order," Greg responded sluggishly, still without moving or opening his eyes. He had neither the strength nor the desire to participate in the exchange of jokes with his team leader now. He just needed to find the strength to get out of the car and finish this damn shift. He really did not like the vague sense of unease in his soul. Is this the disappointment of his own failure during this night or sinister forebodings? "_Stop, Greg, it's okay, no forebodings, you're just too damn tired _..." mentally he tried to persuade himself.

"Okey. But who will order to you to get out of the car, Boss?" Ed looked at his tired friend, smiling.

"Нhммм...Holleran?" Greg idly speculated, knowing that Ed is not going to leave him alone.

"Should I call him?" Ed asked with a sly grin.

Greg appeared to think it over, "Only if he will carry me upstairs. I'm not sure I want to go up all these stairs…" he stifled another yawn.

"No way. He will not. You're heavy!" Ed responded strongly, still smiling.

Greg snorted. "You are evil. I've told you, I'm big boned! and you -" he involuntarily drawn into the conversation, a little distracted from his gloomy thoughts.

"And you need to patch the wound on your forehead. This is a deep and dirty," Ed interrupted.

"Later on, Eddie. First of all I just want to take off these wet clothes..." Greg sighed and fell silent again.

Ed grinned. "And? Should I call someone?" he paused for a moment and then drawled snidely, "Holleran?"

"God, Ed!" Greg eyes fluttered open and he sharply straightened. "You ...! Get out of the car!" Greg shook his head, smiling involuntarily. He unbuckled the belt and went out to the cutting wind_. "Damn, this lousy night turns into a hideous day,"_ he cursed as the chilly rain gusted into his face and then quickly headed into the building.

...

The HQ was a buzzing hive of activity.

Team Three, which worked a simultaneous shift had also recently arrived from their call. And Team Two, who had responded the call for back-up, had not yet left the building.

Everywhere was crowded - in the corridors, in the locker room, in the shower.

Deciding that they can wait 10 minutes for the crowd in the men's locker room to decrease slightly, Ed and Greg entered the semi-dark briefing room and wearily sat down in the desk-chair.

Through the open door they could hear the sounds of the morning routine of the SRU HQ and they were grateful to be here now in this dark, getting a little repose.

The two men sat in contemplative silence for several minutes.

Finally, Greg let out a small sigh and said quietly, gazing thoughtfully at the large window briefing-room on low gray clouds.

"You know, Ed... That's off the record but... After such a shifts I'm starting to think I'm getting too old for field work. Perhaps it's time to make way to young, step aside," he gently touched a scratch on his forehead and fell silent again.

"Are you kidding? And give up all this?" Ed raised his eyebrows in surprise and stared at his colleague. "What could be better than chasing heavily armed bad guys, in the rain, in the night woods, being up to the ears in mud? Paperwork? Ha! You wouldn't last a week. You'd go crazy with boredom, I guarantee it!" He was smiling, but his eyes intently studied Greg.

The sergeant grinned humorlessly. "Actually, the "paperwork" sounds very tempting now. Warm, clean, dry" he thoughtfully brushed the dirt from the wet sleeve of his uniform.

Ed leaned back in his chair, regarding his friend and frowning slightly. Greg wasn't exactly the sharing type, like Ed. Giving such a confession, even alone with his close friend, was not typical for him.

Ed could only hope that this reaction was only the result of a heavy night and fatigue, but nothing more. What's behind this was not serious contemplation and real doubts. As it was, when Dr. Toth made Greg to doubt himselves and in his ability to command Team One. Ed was not going to let that happen again. No way.

"Look, it's not our first hard shift, huh?" Ed watched as the other man slowly nodded his head in silent agreement.

"I'm afraid that is not the last" still frowning answered Greg.

Ed categorically didn't like Greg's emotional state. Greg was right – this shift is not over yet and it was his job as a team leader to make sure that the emotional problems of any of the members of the group will not affect the performance of the whole team. It was his duty as a team leader and as a friend to get Greg out of his dark mood.

He grinned Greg.

"Boss. Come on. Look on the bright side - in less than 3 hours our shift is over! hardly that anything like this hot call is going to happen," he shrugged.

"I hope so, Eddie," the sergeant said, distantly, looking at his watch. "_Damn, why is time passing so slowly now_?"

"And even if it happens. I know you, Greg. You would be the first to jump out of this room and insist that the call is sent to Team One. And why?" Ed looked expectantly at Greg.

"Because we are the best, Eddie... I remember," Greg huffed wearily. "You know, I really appreciate your confidence in us all. And in me," he paused for a moment, shaking his head and then continued, "But now I really do not want any new hot calls. Suspect that the rest of the team will support me in this, Ed " Greg, frowning again, touched his forehead, gently checking a fresh scratch.

"Greg, stop!" Ed drove up in the roller-chair closer to other man and grabbed him by the hand, forbidding touching the wound. He suspected about the possible cause of the gloomy mood of his friend, except the obvious physical fatigue. The negotiations, which Greg led for several hours in the wood ended unsuccessfully. And although this time the fatal shots were not made by their team, all of them had a sense of failure after all.

As every fatal shot that Ed made left a scar in his own soul, as every such case of unsuccessful negotiations gave Greg his own pain. Ed understood and shared what is going on in the soul of his friend as no one else. Yet their job was about saving lives, not taking them.

Ed knew Greg was a professional and was able to handle his own emotions and feelings. They have long been accustomed to this side of their work, and usually successfully coped with this burden alone.

But now, seeing the grim face of his friend and after this unexpected recognition, Ed was not going to allow Greg to deal with this alone.

"Listen. We are all tired. There is a proposal. Shift is over, first go home and rest. And in the evening come to my house? Sophie and Izzy went to relatives for two days. Only men, right? Clark would be happy to see you. Order pizza, watch hockey together. And ... let's talk about all of what you yourself want to say."

Greg looked at his friend, surprising. "What do I hear? Ed Lane, Mr."do not try to open my shell!" wants to talk?" he smiled. Usually it was Greg, persuading closed and stubborn Ed to "talk."

"Hey!" Ed exclaimed and threw up his hands in warning, "I'm planning on you're the one who is going to talk! Look, if you do not want to come to us, then I'll come to you? So what? Your place or mine?" he looked at Greg, waiting for an answer, ignoring the obvious third option, Greg spending the evening at home, alone with his couch.

Greg thought a couple of seconds , weighing his options. Still, he knew his friend too well to hope that he drops his plan. So, he decided not to waste his remaining strength on useless resistance and accepted the inevitable. He had no plans tonight. Indeed, why should he have to stay home all alone?

"It's all right, Eddie. Your place, pizza and hockey sounds great. But first we have to get through the end of this shift," Greg again involuntarily glanced at his watch and grimaced. The clock seemed frozen. He immediately caught the corner of his eye a worried look that Ed threw in his direction. "Stop looking at me like that, Eddie. I'm fine, " he chuckled slightly.

"Hey, that's my line!" Ed portrayed resentment on his face and slightly kicked Greg in the leg, receiving the loud indignant "ouch!" in return.

Then, he grew serious. "So. If you're okay, then I don't want to hear any more about the "make way to young, step aside," and other nonsense, okay?"

They looked into each other's eyes, there was no share of humor there.

Greg nodded. "Okay, Eddie. Deal. Look, I'm really OK. It's just… " He paused and rubbed his eyes, "Never mind," he waved his hand.

Ed watched Greg hunched over the desk, resting his chin on his fists, gloomily gazing out at nothing. His concern for his friend did not disappear.

"Is this because of Dean? because of his departure?" he suggested. He knew from Greg that Dean was going to leave to visit his mother. Dean loved her and missed still and often visited her from time to time. Ed knew how much Greg hated these visits.

Greg understood it, didn't tried to stop it, even approved of it, but ... hated it. As he once told Ed, every time when Dean drove away from him, he's got an irrational fear that he will not return. So many years of life without his son, banned from seeing him made Greg afraid Dean would leave sometime and never return.

"He's leaving this morning. I plan to get home in time to say goodbye. It's all right, Eddie, it's only two weeks," he smiled and sighed.

Lane still looked at him intently.

"There's something else?" he asked alertly, "Greg?"

"Nothing," Greg replied evenly.

"Yes. Something is."

"Nothing I can't handle, Ed," Greg let out an exasperated sigh.

"Boss?" Ed looked at him questioningly, giving him the best "don't-lie-to-me" look.

Greg pulled a face. Sometimes, Ed resembled a bulldog, stubbornly clinging to a stick and not unclenching the jaws as long as he does not gets what he wants.

"Ed, tell me honestly. Don't you ever feel yourself old?" Finally he asked quietly.

Ed's eyebrows raced up his forehead in surprise. "Is that what's eating you?" he smiled softly. "My answer is no, Greg. I don't feel old and I plan to continue not to feel so for another 20 years."

Greg snorted.

"Hey, do not forget that we are the same age as well?" Ed said indignantly and suddenly narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Boss ... You and Marina. Are you all right?"

Greg nodded, deep in his thought, " 'Yes, we're fine, Eddie."

"Just, you know… If you ... Old age has nothing to do with it. It doesn't matter. It's all a stress, a tension. Fatigue. This can happen to anyone. You just need to relax. How long you have these problems? Greg?" he moved closer and gently placed his hand on the shoulder of his friend, shaking it lightly in order to get the attention of a man who is still looking thoughtfully into the space in front of him.

"What?" Greg suddenly come out from his thoughts. "What problem? What do you mean?" he looked at Ed blankly.

"I asked how long have you a problem ... uh ... in bed?" Ed repeated softly, almost in a whisper.

Greg looked at him dumbfounded, his mouth open in amazement, "W... What? I have problem in ...? Are you crazy?" he jumped up to his feet.

Ed immediately drove off in a chair at a safe distance from the indignant man, throwing his arms protectively in front of him, starting to giggle, "Sorry, sorry, Greg! Just calm down, buddy!"

"How could you even think such a thing, you bastard!" Greg shouted angrily in strangled whisper and stare at Ed.

"Greg, you're gloomy, you're somber, talking about old age! you willingly agreed to spend the evening with me and pizza, but not with Marina!" Ed said, still laughing "What's else was I supposed to think?"

"What to think? Anything but not this! not this!" Greg hissed and accusingly pointed at Ed "You shall pay for this! Damn! Marina is visiting her sister!" he sat down again and smiled.

"Okay!" Ed pulled back on his chair closer to Greg. "I'm glad that you're ok," he looked at him "So... Means no more reason to be in a bad mood? Frankly and honestly, Boss. "

Greg nodded "It seems that but... I do not know. Just something is bothering me, Eddie. You know, maybe gut feeling ... all that stuff," he admitted somewhat reluctantly.

Ed raised an eyebrow at him, smiling "That's all? Are you sure this is your gut feeling, isn't just ... oh, I don't know ... a stomach flu, perhaps?" He took the occasion to change the subject and divert Greg from his dark thoughts and was relieved to finally see a big smile on the face of his friend.

"So. What's your gut trying to tell you?" He looked curiously at the sergeant.

"Just because I have not eaten since last night," Greg tried to laugh it off, not wanting to vocalize their irrational fears.

"Boss, come on. It's not about that, you know," Ed did not retreat.

"I know it's not about that. But I have no idea. I just really want this shift to be over with no new hot call, okay?" He looked at Ed and waved when he saw a skeptical expression on his friend's face "Okay, skip it. The gut may be wrong."

"My gut is never wrong!" Ed replied proudly, with a hint of fun flickering in his eyes.

"Oh, of course! Yours guts! Because you are never wrong yourself, Eddie, right?" Greg snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Exactly! And that is why I am your-" Ed looked at Greg expectantly , allowing him to finish the sentence.

"My number one, I remember this, Eddie," Greg laughed, looking at his satisfied friend.

That little anxiety in his soul left. Almost left.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Spike and Sam, in clean uniform, went into the briefing room with sandwiches and coffee in hands and stared at the sergeant and team leader, sitting there in the darkness and laughing.

"Well, I'm glad someone has the strength to laugh. Would you share what you find so funny?" Spike asked sharply to the sitting men and slammed the cup of coffee down on the table. His hair was still wet from the shower, and now he looked like a very indignant hedgehog.

"Whoa! Spike!" Ed raised his hands defensively, laughing "What happened? Oh God, do not tell me Babycakes left you for another technical genius ?" he exclaimed in mock horror.

Spike shot a glare at Ed, without deigning to answer.

"This is because of the forest, Spike? We know you hate it. This is why you're not in the mood?" Sergeant suggested, smiling softly.

"I'm in the mood!" Spike replied loudly and sank wearily into a chair "Just ..." He shook his head indignantly "Can you imagine? At the time, while we were drowning in those a dreadful swamp-"

"Spike, there was not a really swamp. There was just a mud," Sam interrupted him, "A lot of mud. " He sat down, took a sip of coffee, released a tired sigh and slowly began to eat his sandwich.

"Excellent, Sam, thank you! Can I continue now?" Spike sarcastically replied and stood up, he was too overwhelmed with emotions to sit. "While we're there up to our necks in mud, Team Three spent 4 hours in a warm, dry and cozy living room with a large fireplace persuading an over-emotional woman to not commit suicide. Although everyone knew that nothing would happen- the team, the psychologist, and the woman herself!"

"Why are you so outraged, Spike?" Parker said softly, looking at his young colleague and diligently suppressing a smile "Everything is made in accordance with existing rules and procedures. I see no reason-" He did not finish.

"To hell with the rules!" Spike yelled, his irritation burst out. "You don't understand? The woman just wanted to get attention! It is obvious! But 6 highly professional SRU officers were forced to spend a few hours on pointless negotiations with this madwoman and her love. Instead of trekking through the woods to deal with real dangerous armed criminals with us!" He began to pace around the room, actively gesticulating "And all this just because she had a gun! She was never going to shoot herself, you know!"

Ed and Greg exchanged surprised glances. Spike was not being himself. Typically, the most peaceful and good-natured, he was now a bundle of nerves.

"Pointless?" Ed replied thoughtfully "The subject did not shoot. So the sense was." He stretching his back and looked curiously at his indignant young teammates "Spike, what's wrong? We usually have about half the cases are calls to suicide! What is it about today's case that angers you so much?"

"Ed, I know! I'm ready to go on calls to suicide! I'm cool with that. It's not about that! I'm just saying that the rules are not quite right. In my opinion, if there are two calls at the same time, as it was today, all SRU teams should be sent to a more serious challenge. No offense, guys, but if the Team Three was with us from the beginning, perhaps we would not have this chase through the woods! But they had to call Team Two from the day off, wait for them to come to SRU, to waste time. Perhaps the result would be different at the end." Spike finished and stood frowning at the window. He, like all the others in the group was disappointed by the fact that the situation that night could not be resolved peacefully.

"Hey, if we start debriefing, let's wait for Jules and Leah, eh?" Sam looked at Spike questioningly.

"This is not a debriefing, we're just talking, okay?" Spike turned and flicked his eyes across the room towards his colleague.

"Ok, she did not commit suicide," Greg leaned back in his chair. "But imagine that option. SRU ignores the call, arguing that we have more important things. Lady finally blows the roof. She takes the gun and goes to the man who abandoned her, gave up, changed, doesn't matter ... And here we have a hostage situation. Maybe she kills him. And then herself. Two dead. You saying that such a variant is improbable?" Greg looked at Spike.

"Standard situation," Sam muttered, in one gulp drank his coffee. Folding his arms to rest them on the table, he slumped over and buried his head in them.

Spike walked over to the table, leaning on it and shook his head "Boss! I'm not saying that such calls should be ignored!"

"Spike," Ed said quietly. "You know, we don't get to choose. There is a call - we react. And then - as you'll get lucky. Someone goes into the mud and cold puddles. Someone - in a warm living room with fireplace. Every call is important for us, there is always human life at stake."

"It's clear! Do not talk to me like a slow-witted child, Ed! You know perfectly well what I mean!" Spike start pacing in his agitation again.

Ed could not resist. This debate could go on forever. "Quit pacing, Spike! You're making me dizzy!" He groaned. "Sit down already! Tell me, are you mad because of this woman or because the third group did not share with us the joy of trekking through the night forest swamp?" Ed grinned and gave a sly squint at his young colleague.

"There was not a swamp!" Sam muttered, not raising his head from the table.

"I'm not mad. Just... I just think that situations like with this woman can be handled by the regular patrol units. A piece of cake! SRU should be sent to a really serious call!" Spike said firmly and finally sat down at the table, staring thoughtfully at his coffee and sandwich in front of him.

"A piece of cake?" Ed stared at him and grinned. "Tell me, Spike, how do you know in advance that the situation is really critical, or about to become so? Where is the boundary? By what criteria do you or someone else decide that the challenge is substantial, but the other is not worth our attention? That this time it is serious, and the next a call we can relax? " He stood up and paced around the room.

Passing by Spike he deftly grabbed a cup of coffee that standing in front of sitting man. "Thank you, Spike! You see, you can never relax! Alert and ready!" And Ed gladly drank coffee in the face of his young teammate.

Spike jumped up. "Hey, that's my coffee! Ed, I did not ask for a practical demonstration!" He indignantly exclaimed, reaching for Ed, but seeing as he returns the empty cup on the table, slumped powerlessly back.

"Well, I do not know how to guess in advance and by what criteria to decide, okay? But anyway, I think this is not right." He folded his arms across his chest, and fell silent.

"Okay, Spike, let it be your way!" Greg said softly, looking at him with a warm smile. He knew that all of them are now exhausted and Spike's irritation is just a consequence of his fatigue. "Do you want me to tell Holleran that Team One now only responds to calls with the big warm fireplace? Just promise me that you will not immediately start to complain that you're bored. And that all the interesting challenges, with chases, gunfights-"

"-with using different technical geeks toys that someone likes so much -" Cunningly smiling, Ed added with apparent amusement.

"-goes to the other teams, and Team One get all the boring calls and forced to engage in this nonsense. Do you agree to this option, Spike?" Greg smiled peacefully.

Spike looked at them incredulously. Ed and Greg looked expectantly at him, like if they really expected that he will choose.

"Ок!" He threw up his hands in surrender. "Fine! you both win! I promise that I will be glad when we get sent to creep into another swamp!" Finally, he smiled, unable to sulk at someone for a long time. "By the way, why are you both still here? Are you waiting for all the dirt will dry up and fall off itself? Showers are free!"

Ed sighed.

"Because I noticed that whenever change into a clean uniform, we immediately get a hot call and as a result I get even dirtier than I was before. Well..." He got up and came to Greg, pulled out of his collar yellow oak leaf and , smiling , and solemnly handed it to his friend. "Come on, Boss. Let's see if it works this time!"

" Wow, Ed, I did not know that you started to believe in omens?" Sam asked in surprise, raising his tousled blonde head "I thought only the elderly believe in omens." He looked at Ed with an innocent expression. A muffled snort Greg and Spike was heard nearby.

"I don't believe! But this omen somehow always works, trust me." Ed shook his finger warningly and then, with a highly raised head stalked out and heading toward the locker room, muttering something under his breath.

"Did he say "Smartass"? Spike looked up at Greg

"He said "Smartass." Greg nodded and followed Ed, smiling.

Half an hour later Greg, with the scratch on his forehead treated, and he and Ed both in clean uniforms, again entered into the briefing-room. By this time the whole group was already there in full strength.

Ed walked over to the table and smiling placed before Spike, who sat pensively staring at the screen of his handheld, a big cup of fresh coffee, giving him a joking pat on the head. Spike looked at him in surprise, immediately smiling broadly.

"Well, have you calmed down?" Ed cheerfully asked him. "You know, Spike, you should talk to the guys from other teams! They're indignant, consider that we always take all the most interesting calls."

"Have we missed something?" Leah asked, exchanging an interested glance with Jules.

"Half an hour ago, we were deciding on what calls we will respond and which will be ignored as not worth our attention," Greg laughed.

"Hey! I did not say that, Boss!" Spike protested loudly, almost spilling his coffee.

"Ok, I'm sorry," Greg nodded and lifted his hand, a plea for peace. "Good. Spike suggested that the calls where we could be in the room with the pleasant warm fireplace in bad weather is much more preferable than a night trekking through the cold muddy forest. And Ed and I did not agree with him."

"Do not agree? Wow! are you guys serious?" Jules laughed, her eyes widened in astonishment. "Spike, I'm with you! For today I had enough trekking. I was afraid I'd never get clean! I hope that-"

Suddenly a loud siren blaring, interrupting their conversation, announcing a hot call coming in.

Greg and Ed quickly headed to the control desk at the same time as the leader of Team Three and Holleran.

"Vinne, what have we?" Greg asked, his voice was taut.

"Gunfight at the nightclub, witnesses heard the shots, there is information on the wounded and the hostage." A young woman quickly informed the officers standing next to her. "Team One-"

"Stop, Winnie. Call Team Three. Team Two still here?" Holleran interrupted her.

"Yes, SIU had just finished with them."

"Team Two will be back up, if necessary," ordered the Commander.

Greg and Ed raised their eyebrows in surprise and looked at each other. "Sir, what about us?"

Holleran sighed. "Greg. Your group worked a hard shift, as well as several in succession before. Your shift is over now. The report can wait until tomorrow. Go home, relax."

"Sir, we're fine! Actually our shift ends in a two hours," they protested.

"I know that you are fine and I have a watch," the Commander said with a grin. "No one doubts you guys. But I don't want to send a tired team into the field for the second consecutive tough call, especially when there are other teams available. Rest, all of you. Dismissed." Holleran nodded at the officers standing in front of him, showing that the debate is over, and headed toward his office.

"Well, it seems your wish fulfilled - there are no more hot calls for us today, Boss," Ed looked at Greg.

"Okay, guys. Then let's do a fast debriefing and go home," Greg nodded in relief, inwardly exulting that now he would be able to spend the morning with his son. At the same time Ed gave a signal to the rest of the group to return to the briefing-room.

The second alarm sounded behind them, and Greg stiffened for a moment.

"Winnie?" They went back to the information desk and silently waiting until she gathered the necessary information.

"The police have cornered a large gang of car thieves," the young dispatcher started to inform her colleagues about the new situation. "Part were detained, but many more are currently hiding in a locked area. The police ask for help in apprehending. Sir, should I call for another team?" She turned to Holleran who was just returned.

The officers exchanged glances.

"Sir, it's okay, we'll go," Ed answered for them all. "We really are okay. Helping police to arrest a few hoods? What could be easier? Our forces to be enough! Piece of cake!"

...

" Piece of cake, Eddie?" Greg looked curiously at his colleague, who was currently driving the black SUV confidently through the morning traffic. "What happened to "we do not divide calls into important and unimportant? Alert and ready? "

"Come on, Greg!" Ed intoned calmly "Just kidding. Echoes from our conversation with Spike. You know me well, Boss. I'll never relax and underestimate any situation. I would never allow that of myself or anyone on my team." Smiling, he looked at the man next to him.

"Let me think ... and that's why you're my number one, Eddie, isn't it?" Greg sighed.

"That's right, Boss. That's right." Ed nodded and smiled broadly.


	3. Chapter 3

3

Ed's good humor hadn't lasted long.

The storage area, where police raided and where they now had to look for hiding criminals, was a huge. Warehouses, labyrinths of transport containers and a rubbish dump, located nearby. _"It's not going to be easy,"_ Ed sighed heavily, looking around. His breath came out in little clouds of vapor.

The weather is still not going to facilitate their work. A cold wind was trying to sneak under their jackets and violently threw the rain in their faces. Some of the drops were beginning to turn into snow and small white flakes clearly could be seen on the black color of their uniforms.

The team gathered behind the truck, hiding from the wind, waiting while Spike is getting maps of the area.

At this moment a couple police officers passed them, escorting a small group of prisoners in handcuffs. Ed grimly watched them. Almost all of them were teenagers. Some of them, as he noticed with surprise and anger, were not more than 15-16 years old, which was the age of his son, Clark. He began to feel a growing irritation inside.

"Eddie? Something wrong?" Greg asked his friend alertly noticing his tough stance and stiff posture.

"Damn, Boss, it's just kids! What the hell are they doing here? And what the hell are we doing here? Seems I begin to agree with Spike! It's really a matter of ordinary police! Aren't they need the SRU to catch a couple of kids? It seems like the police didn't want to crawl in the mud so they called us!" Ed pressed his lips and frowned as he watched the departing police escort teens.

"Stop! Who recently described to me the delights of the field work? Enjoy, Eddie," Greg smiled mirthlessly and looked around at the surrounding dreary landscape .

"I do not mind the fieldwork, Greg," Ed continued to grumble, "But this! What next? Are they going to call SRU to get a cat from a tree?"

"Oh, Ed! Do you really refuse to take a poor little kitty with high terrible tree?" asked Jules in a small voice, carefully portraying sadness and disappointment on her face. But then she couldn't help smiling, looking at the gloomy face of her team leader.

"Only if out of my rifle ..." Ed muttered darkly and looking at laughing teammates, shrugged, "What?"

"Alright, alright," Greg said in a placating tone "Focus , please. We're still in the SRU. Not in school. Let's try and act like the professionals they pay us to be, ok?" he smiled and then turned serious, "These children were engaged in car theft, stealing car parts. Drug squad are also interested in some of those who are hiding here. They must be found and we can do that. Let's do it quickly and go home," he added, and glancing at his watch again ("_because I really need to get home in time to say goodbye to Dean before he leaves_!" he pleaded internally)

"Home sounds good," Jules sighed, tightly buttoning her warm jacket, sneezing loudly.

"But it's a labyrinth, Boss!" Sam exclaimed. "Why did they called us, not the dog-handlers?" He appealed to the police head of operations who came up to the group of officers SRU at the moment.

He welcomed them and said an apologetic tone.

"Dog-handlers have been here for a long time, gentlemen. And they helped us to find several bad guys. But we have some really nasty weather. Rain and snow are all night long. It's hard work for dogs. They can't get through everywhere."

"And we are everywhere, right?" Sam cast him a sour look.

"Officer, is there at least approximate information about the places where the rest of these guys are hiding?" Ed asked.

"Well ... They're out there somewhere, " the officer shrugged and gestured around the surrounding landscape.

"That's a hell of a lot of haystack," Sam muttered gloomy.

Standing next to Sam, Leah slapped him on the shoulder. "Don't be sad, Samtastik. In the end, we can consider this task as a training. Just regular workout."

Ed looked at them and snapped a hard tone. "No training. Work as usual. Officer, what do we know about these guys? Firearms? " he turned back to the police officer.

"Well, the ones we detained, they had switchknifes only. Not firearms. Maybe they got rid of it. Maybe they didn't have any of it. In fact, they are just hijackers, though well organized. We took the gang leader, but a couple of his confederates are still lurking around here somewhere. The rest ... In fact most of them are really only children." The cop tiredly sighed in disappointment, looking at a group of detainees.

"Okay. Non lethal, certainly," Ed ordered and frowned in annoyance, watching his teammates getting out tasers and flashbangs. _Damn, use tasers against children?_ He was hating this task more and more .

"Spike, what do we got?" Ed appealed to a colleague who went out of the truck at this moment.

Spike stared at the screen of the tablet. "So ... Maps are already in your handhelds. But they have not been updated and are not very detailed, unfortunately." He shook his head in disappointment. "In addition, half of the territory is a trash dump, and no plans exist for that, as you know."

"Okay, let's work with what we have," Greg nodded. Jules sneezed again and Ed fixed his intent gaze on her.

"Oh!" Spike suddenly raised his head, "I have a UAV in the truck! Strong wind, but I'll try to get the picture above, it'll be better detailed and maybe we'll be able to detect our suspects."

"Spike, why are among your smart devices not any high-tech umbrella?" Jules sighed, exasperatedly discarding wet threads of hair from her neck and raised the collar of his jacket up.

"Umbrella?" Ed looked skeptically at his miniature officer, "With this wind? Jules, you would go up like Mary Poppins!" He ignored the laughter of his membership and a furious glare that Jules shot him and returned to the seriousness, "So. Spike, a detailed site plan, the view from the top, just do it. Boss, you're with Leah. Sam with me. Jules, you are left in a track, run command post. Let's go, look for bad kids.

"Wha ...? Command post? But Ed! I'm ok!" Jules exclaimed, barely suppressing the next sneezing.

"Out of the question," Ed smiled at her corner of his mouth "Umbrella..." he snorted softly, shaking his head. "Help Spike with his toys. Though..." he watched Spike approached, gently pressing to his chest a small quadrocopter. "I'm afraid that Spike has no plans to share his toys with anyone. Right, Spike?" After receiving a huge satisfied smile as a response of his young teammate, Ed exhaled loudly. "Well, I'm glad that at least someone will be happy here. Come on, let's hit the aisles. A new and exciting journey is waiting for us." He waved his hand at the others as they headed towards the labyrinth of passages.

...

"Ed? Let's split up." Sam caught up with Ed. "Then we will be able to search the area in half the time. Look, it's just unarmed teenagers, there is no need to go in pairs!"

The sergeant, walking behind him, grinned and said a little snidely. "Sam, do you have some reason you don't want to go paired with Ed?"

Sam indignantly looked at the older man. "I meant just what I said! Then we're all done here in half the time! Split up, look around, and go home! Listen, guys, do you really want to hang around here longer than necessary?"

"I do not want to. But it's unsafe to separate. The fact that the police have not yet found any weapons doesn't mean that they don't have them," Ed said calmly, without stopping.

"Ed! Didn't you recently claim that the SRU officer is able to cope with any criminal?" Leah asked with a raised eyebrow skeptically. "Let's split up?"

"Go in pairs," Ed snapped. "Those who have been taken by the police, this is a small thing. They took those who panicked. Those who are left, they're probably older, calmer, more experienced . Maybe they're armed. So, work as always. . Let's move!" He quickened his pace, making it clear that the debate was over.

Sam screwed up his face. "_Hell, I hope we don't have to spend too much time in here_," he murmured, wearily.

An hour later, even more tired, though it seemed impossible, they were still searched blockaded territory . Cold rain by this time completely turned to sleet and the only positive thing was that they managed to find and detain several other members of the gang, including those the police department considered most wanted.

...

Ed and Sam walked down the narrow passage between the hangars when their path was blocked by a huge puddle. The terrain in this place was down and now this area between the two walls was like a little dirty lake.

In conjunction with the grim surroundings and icy wind, the perspective to climbing into that puddle, what seemed a very deep - it did not make Sam happy, absolutely.

"_There are other passages that can be used for checking this field._" The young man stopped, studying the map and waiting for Ed turn back.

He looked up from the map and groaned when he saw his team leader silently step forward and, by jumping between pieces of garbage and stones that stuck out of the water, began to overcome the obstacle.

"Ed, come on! You can't be serious!" Sam moaned. He watched his colleague, mentally cursing his stubbornness. But there was no choice and with a sigh, Sam followed his leader.

He did not copy the way that used Ed. With muffled curses, he just walked into a mess and, pressing his back against the wall, he began to move through, carefully stepping and trying to find a safe and non-slip surface under his feet. Close to the wall the puddle was not as deep as in the center.

Sudden loud splashing and the ensuing frantic stream of swearing and curses made him stop and stare in amazement at his usually discreet leader. Who is currently lying in a muddy puddle. As the initial shock has passed, Sam could not help breaking into laughter.

Dirty and wet Ed stood up, kicked the puddle in fury, raising around dirty spray and then looked angrily at the laughing Sam.

"Ed-" Sam began to speak through laughter.

"Not a word, Sam!" Ed pointed to a young man.

"Ed, Sam, what happened? Status? " Immediately, they heard in their headsets anxious voices of their teammates.

"We're fine, guys! Wait a second ..." Sam could barely speak.

Continuing to laugh Sam leaned back against the wall, helplessly. "Ed, you know, I really hope this omen works only with you!" He fished in the pockets of his vest and stepped closer, handing Ed a piece of cloth that he took and began to wipe his face and head, trying to clear the main muddy mess. Sam waited patiently, still chortled.

"Guys, you okay?" Greg continued to worry.

Ed threw the dirty piece of cloth and barked in his radio, "Boss! I've bloody well had it. It is time to end!"

"Eddie, are you sure you're all right?" Greg's voice was still anxious, but now there could be heard notes of humor.

"We're just fine, Boss! Peachy! But Sam is just having too much fun here!" Ed spoke through gritted teeth. "I'm starting to seriously be afraid for his safety!" he looked gloomy at his teammate, who now struggled to hold back laughter. Unsuccessfully. The laughter shook him again like a spasm.

"Okay, guys. We have done all that we can. Go back, " they heard Greg's voice. "I think that today we are all fed up," He paused for a moment and added, softly, "Hang in there, Eddie."

"Sam? That we've heard ... Was that really Ed?" even through the radio the light entertainment could be heard in Spike's voice.

"It's all right, Spike," Sam finally managed to say, "Just ... it's Ed's omen! It works!" he began to giggle, looking at Ed. "It was the most impressive slipping I've ever seen!"

"Spike, I take that back! Currently big nice fireplace would be really good," Ed muttered into his headset, as he and Sam headed for the exit.

They walked only a few steps, and an excited Spike's voice came again into their headsets, "Wait! Wait! Ed, Sam! I've just spotted movement in the garbage dump, two moving objects. Can you check this area? It's next to you, about 100m to the west. "

"A garbage dump?" Ed rolled his eyes to the gray gloomy sky, "Better and better! Now we're going to crawl through the garbage dump. Boss, I'll be sitting next to you in the car, and I'm not going to smell like roses. Are you ready?"

Sam just resignedly sighed, following his team leader, who spite of his furious speech, has moved quickly in the direction that Spike gave them.

"Guys, check that area and then finish! By the way, Ed, you can take a car with Sam! You both will smell identically! And I'll go with Jules!" Greg's soft laughter came into their headsets.

"I agree, Sarge!" they heard Jules.

Ed's serious voice suddenly cut their radio exchange "Boss, we see the one, pursuing."

"Copy that," immediately came Greg's reply.

Through the narrow aisles Ed and Sam ran after the fleeing dark figure, ignoring the mud and puddles, sliding on the turns and lifting fountains of spray. They are split up. Turning the corner, Ed almost managed to grab jumped right at him a fugitive, but he dodged and ran back down the aisle, almost ran into Sam, but still managing to slide past him. Enraged Sam, having made an incredible spurt, was able to reach the fleeing boy and grabbed him, virtually jumped on to his back.

The force of inertia and gravity uniting together have done their job and mercilessly threw the officer and his victim on the ground. Not quite on the ground. Another dirty puddle met their downfall.

"One subject detained," Ed calmly informed the rest of the group.

He slowly approached and grinning gloatingly, watched as his young colleague, spitting the dirt crossly, cuffed the detainee.

"Hmm, it doesn't look like you're having any fun!" he squinted at Sam and as he noticed his gloomy face, smiled good-naturedly and patted him on the shoulder.

"Well, let's see what we have here?" He turned his attention to the detainee, who Sam at that moment lifted to his feet. The shadow falling over his face when he saw a frightened teenager, from head to toe soiled with mud, soaking wet in clothes.

"Older, more experienced? Did you expect that?" Sam muttered, throwing a sour glance at Ed.

Ed did not answer. _Damn! What were the parents of these children thinking about?_ He cursed to himself and put away his Taser. He'll manage here without it, the classical methods will work just as well.

Ed exchanged a look with Sam and looming menacingly over the suspect, coming close to his personal space.

"Now you tell me, where is your friend with whom you were hiding here. And do not lie to me and waste my time," Ed said, with steel in his voice.

He brought his face with clenched lips and narrowed eyes to the boy's face, having done his very best evil face.

Even Sam was impressed with this performance and start to have compassion toward their detainee. Getting face to face with disgruntled Ed Lane was not what he would wish for anyone.

The teenager stubbornly kept silent but his eyes now expressed complete horror.

"Sir, may I?" Sam turned to Ed, it was his role at the moment to inspire confidence in the detainee.

As Ed stepped back a little, he leaned over to the boy, trying to look as friendly as possible.

"Listen. I would advise you not to anger that bald guy, kid." Sam gently placed his hand on the shoulder of a teenager, speaking softly. "Trust me he is really crazy. I could hardly stop him. He's a monster," he ended dramatically and looked sympathetically in the face of the frightened boy, making sure that Ed heard his words.

Looking up to the older officer who was standing nearby, Sam's barely managing to keep laughter. Ed looked at him slack-jawed, with an expression on the face of a deadly insult. But not being able to respond to Sam, he could only silently sending him a glance that promised a terrible revenge.

"_Score one for Braddock_!" exclaimed Sam mentally

It was their private little competition, a banter that began in the first days of their teamwork, when Ed during one of the hot calls in all seriousness sent Sam on SPECIAL MISSION to get coffee for him and Jules.

The teenager started shivering, whether from cold or from fear.

"I .. I saw Skinny run by that passage. Said that he was going to hide behind those containers, " he said in a trembling voice, pointing to one of the aisles and looking sideways at Ed.

"Skinny?" Ed skeptically looked at the kid - short and pale, with narrow shoulders and sparse blond hair. He sighed. In his mind's eye there was an image of another kid such as the young, wet and frightened. _Well, anyway, it would be easy._

"Sam, take him to his friends, they get bored without him. Then come right back, we need to find this "Skinny", " Ed said, frowning, seeing the unconcealed relief on the face of a teenager, and how he quickly stepped closer to Sam and away from "monster" Ed.

"Back? Ed, come on ..." Sam protested weakly, wiping the dirt from his face, "Maybe enough? I have this mud everywhere!" He spat again. "The police should be happy we helped them to find most of the suspects, let them look for this "skinny"?

"Sam, I see on your face a few more clean places." Ed smiled and at once again became serious, " Take this guy and come back. We need to finish the job that we started. I'll wait for you here."

"Yes, sir..." Sam replied dejectedly and holding the shivering guy's shoulder led him down the aisle toward to the exit.

"Boss, Sam's coming out with one detainee," Ed started to inform the sergeant, but suddenly turned around, as if he just remembered something "Sam, wait!" he called out loudly.

Sam stopped and looked at the older man. Lane went to him and frowned again with annoyance when he saw a teenager immediately tried to move away from him at a safe distance.

_Come on! Had he been so frightening?_ Ed stopped and pulled out of one of pockets his tactic vest the emergency blanket and handed it to Sam.

"Give him this. He is dripping wet and shivering," he muttered. Sam took a thin piece of shiny material and wrapped it around the guy. The teen looked up in surprise at Ed. Lane gave him a little half-smile (_OK, maybe now I will not be in his nightmares _... he sighed)

As Sam led the detainee away, Ed was left alone, standing and listening to the conversations of his teammates on the radio. Apparently, the operation was over and the police cordon was being pulled back. There remained only the issue with this "skinny."

Wet after swimming in a puddle clothes, cold slowly started leaking into his body. Again, it snowed and it became colder. Ed rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. Just a bit more and he will add this shift to his personal list of the most sucky shifts.

By the way ... He looked at his watch impatiently. Yes, their shift officially ended half an hour ago. Maybe Sam was right, offering to split up ... And Leah was right, too. The officers of SRU were quite able of handling any criminal alone_. Especially, with those whose nickname "skinny_".

Ed thoughtfully looked around, scanning his surroundings. Well, why wait and waste the time? He looked again at the map, pulled a taser, but then put it back. He is the leader of the best tactical group of elite police units, of course he will be able to take an unarmed child without causing him a painful shock. _After all, he's not a monster!_ Ed grinned and considering possible ways of revenge against Sam for his words, smiling to himself, resolutely moving into one of the aisles.

Suddenly, something made him whirl around. Not fast enough however.


	4. Chapter 4

4

А crushing blow caught Ed in the cheekbone, jerking his head sideways and almost knocking him to the ground. He just barely managed to stay on his feet.

For a split second, the blow stunned him. This made it possible for his attacker to pounce on Ed and grab the back of his collar, with powerful throw, slammed his face into the nearest wall, pressing down on his back. And immediately a huge hand like a vise secured him in a head lock, blocking air and depriving him the possibility of uttering any sound, except for a weak wheeze.

Stunned, his movements constrained , Lane tried to twist free of the tight grip of his attacker but pinned to the wall he didn't have many options.

He was able to lower his arm and slide his Glock for the holster on his hip. But immediately, the attacker's hand gripped Ed's hand and hit it several times against the wall next to his face. Shocked by pain in possibly broken fingers, Ed dropped the gun.

The grip on his throat intensified and he reflexively grabbed the bandit's arm, desperately seeking to ease the pressure on his neck. He felt his headset fall from his ear.

But even if the headset wasn't dropped - he absolutely couldn't speak now, his jaw was clenched as he desperately strained all his muscles, preventing the attacker from crush his throat and trying to take at least a small breath. His eyes closed tightly, his hands fiercely gripped the arm currently cutting off his air.

The man's arm was like a steel band, never moving from it's crushing grip even as Ed's hands tried to pry it away from his throat, fingernails digging into the man's sleeve, but the thick material offered no purchase.

Huge muscled bulk pressed him into the wall, wringing his head back and choking him.

Very soon, Ed began to feel the surrounding sounds disappear, being replaced with loud pulsating beats in his skull, as his brain was deprived of blood flow and oxygen.

His vision was beginning to blur, the dangerous darkness gathering at the edges. Then, with his last strength, Ed leaned slightly forward, as far as the space in front of his face allowed, forcing the attacker to repeat his movement, and then sharply with the full force threw his head back, smashing the back of his head into man's face.

The grip on his throat loosened and Ed, using this, released one hand and with the force threw his elbow back, hitting the attacker in the stomach and how he completely loosened the hold, finally getting free and turning around to face the attacker.

Through blurred vision, Ed caught sight of a bulky, strong figure, low forehead, small angry eyes, thick dark bristle covering his face and the blood flowing liberally from his nose. "_Damn, this Neanderthal is the "skinny"_? flashed in his head.

Coughing and swallowing the air, holding one hand on his throat, Ed stepped toward his Glock where it was laying on the ground, staggering and barely discerning it with his blurry vision.

He bent down to pick it up. But the attacker did not give him that chance.

A moment later the bastard crashed into him, before Ed was able to regain control of his shocked body.

Unable to resist, Ed fell back, hit the ground hard. A huge weight fell upon him from above, pressing him into the cold mud, knee into his stomach holding him lying down.

He saw a clenched fist, raised over him. With his reaction still slightly slowed down, he missed a beat, feeling the taste of blood in his mouth from split lips.

Even stunned by blows, pinned to the ground, he continued to fight, being able to return a few blows from his untenable position. Yet the guy easily dodged and blocked most of his punches.

Ed was a good fighter, strong, agile, skilled. But now the huge size of his opponent and his position gave him a distinct advantage. Ed just could not throw him off, feeling as if he is struggling with a grizzly.

He was able to block one of the attacker's hands, but suddenly the guy pressed his second hand against Ed's throat again, still painfully aching from the last attack. His first reaction was to gasp-and he panicked when he couldn't.

Panic gave him new strength. He clawed at fingers that were clutching his throat, managing to release them enough to get a little way for air, but getting only the tiniest gasps of air.

He continued to resist. But how long can he hold on? Where was Sam?

...

Leaving Ed, Sam quickly led the detainee to the exit holding his shoulder, listening to the voices of his team in his headset. The operation was over, and that meant the this damn shift finally coming to it's end

_"About time_" he sighed in relief, went out to the squad cars, transferring the guy to police officer. Then he cursed softly, realizing that now he have to go back to Ed and continue searching for the last member of the gang. And this endless damned shift will not end as long as they do not find him. Damn Ed with his stubbornness and desire to always do everything perfectly! The man can not stand to lose. Perfect soldier, the perfect team leader, perfect sniper, perfect family man ... _Is there something where Ed Lane is not perfect? _Sam sighed, tired and irritated, but also feeling a respect and something like an admiration to his older colleague.

"Ed, come in? I'm on my way back," he said in his radio. He didn't hear the answer and going to call him again but at that moment a sudden loud exclamation of surprise behind him distracted him, making him stop and turn around. He saw his teammates approach him, looking with amazement at blond officer, evenly covered with mud all over.

"You missed some good fun, staying in the truck," he smiled sourly at the laughing Jules and Spike.

"Now I understand why you didn't want to be paired with the Ed," Greg said with a sympathetic smile. "There's a spare set of uniforms in the SUV."

"It's useless." Sam shook his head. "Ed's waiting for me back there. Would you like to join me?" he looked at the Jules.

"Oh, mud baths are not included in the list of my preferences, Sam! Have fun out there yourself, boys!" saying this, Jules took a cloth and began to gently wipe Sam's dirty face.

"Jules, I have to go," he whispered, but not moving, gladly taking her care.

"In a second," she said softly, smiling. When finished, she cupped his cheek in her hand and Sam allowed himself to melt into her soft touch for a moment. He sighed, enjoying this brief seconds of rest before returning to the dirty passages.

He watched as Greg stepped aside, enthusiastically talking to Spike about something and looking at the small quadrocopter. It was obvious that Spike is very proud of his gadget, a broad smile never left his face. Sam frowned. Damn, why Spike didn't go with him to look for that "skinny" now? He looked too happy ... and too clean in Sam opinion .

"I'm glad Ed has left you in the truck. I stink, as slop rat now, don't I?" he said quietly and turning off his radio for a moment. He leaned close to Jules, inhaling her scent ,"When we get back home... Don't hope that you'll escape sharing a shower," he finished with a big smile and turning his radio on before moved away from the slightly reddened Jules.

Seeing in bottle of water in Leah's hands, Sam held out his hand, asking silently for the bottle. Then rinsed his mouth where the sand still crackled on his teeth after his fall in the mud.

In a few gulps, he greedily drank remainder of the water in the bottle. _ Just one second, and he will go back... _

He was ready to hear the demanding harsh voice of his team leader at any moment in his headset, irritated of his delay. But the radio was silent. It means there is no need to rush headlong back.

_Hell, if they split up, as he suggested from the beginning, they could now go home_ - he sighed tiredly and disappointedly, looking back at Jules.

"Officers," a young police officer called to them, approaching them. He led the youth who was still wrapped in the emergency blanket.

"This guy wants to tell you something. Says it's important," he nodded to the detainee.

The youth looked at Sam nervously, shifted his feet.

"Officer ... It's about Skinny..." he hesitated a bit, but then his burst and he quickly began to speak.

"Look, Skinny, it's nickname. Just kidding. He's about 20 old, but he's a really strong man! He's been working as Stan's bodyguard. Engaged in Martial Arts, something else, I don't know. But he's dumb, just muscle! And he is absolutely crazy! Nutcase! That your bald man, I don't think ... he's not very big ..."

The guy has not finished speaking, as Greg and Sam began calling Ed on headset "Ed? ... Eddie! ... Ed, status!"

They got nothing back but a static...

Silently, they looked at each other. Greg, seeing as Sam suddenly went pale, felt the terror gripped his gut. _"Eddie, no..."_

Sam, not waiting for the command, struggled back where he left Ed. The others followed after him.

When he reached the spot where he left Ed, Sam stood still, panting. He looked around quickly, thinking in what direction could Ed head to. But there were many options.

Run the rest.

"Sam? Where?" Greg barked at the young officer.

"Boss, this is the place where I had left him! Ed!" Sam shouted desperately, looking around and listening.

Nothing.

...

Ed's struggles become frenzied and he almost slipped out of the tight grip, like a huge guy suddenly and heavily leaned his knee deep into Ed's belly.

New sharp pain made Ed scream, but his cry was no more than a croak. His resistance began to wane and the world swam in front of him again, sounds and colors started to leave, being replaced by the looming darkness and strange ringing.

He knew if he lost consciousness that he would be dead. This crazy bastard was not going to just knock him out, he would kill him.

Vaguely, he saw the triumphant grin on the face of guy over him ... With a jolt, he realized he was dying. He has only one attempt, last attempt. He risked releasing one hand and the pressure on the throat immediately increased, making the pain unbearable.

But now he reached into one of the pockets of his vest, with numb fingers gripped a heavy stun grenade, pulled it out and with all remaining forces hit the guy in the head, twice. A grip from his throat was gone, fingers loosened, then slipped away entirely and he frantically sucked in his breath. Rolling to his side, he pushed himself to his trembling knees.

Coughing, spitting blood and holding his throat, he blinked feverishly to clear his clouded view.

He glanced at his opponent. The huge guy, holding his bloody head, started to get up, with a growl. His face was twisted with rage.

Then, pulling the pin, Ed threw the stun grenade under guy's feet, falling and managing to close his eyes and his ears at the last moment...

...

"Team, split up" Greg ordered sharply, "Leah, take the left passage. Spike and Jules-"

The close roar of a sudden explosion ripped the morning silence, interrupting Greg and making everyone start.

"There!" Sam spun around and rushed into the right passage.


	5. Chapter 5

5

Ed pushed himself on his trembling legs, staggering over to his Glock lying on the ground. Holding it up, he looked at the thug lying on the ground. Stunned, the man was holding his head and writhing on the ground, but was beginning to attempt to rise to his feet.

Breathing hard and trying to calm the trembling in his hands, Ed pointed Glock at a guy.

"Don't move," he growled.

The man frowned at Ed and doomed lay back on the ground, clasped his hands behind his head. Obviously, he was familiar with the routine .

Only then did Ed allow himself to lean tiredly against a wall, coughing painfully and shaking all over.

"_Great_." He chuckled a little hysterically, "_Piece of cake! And I almost get myself killed._ _You're so screwed up, Ed Lane ..._" He ran his hand over his face, wiping the sweat and dirt, and frowned as his hand came back smeared with blood .

The blood from his face has mixed up with the blood of grazes that he got when the attacker struck his hand against the wall. Ed moved his battered fingers gently.

Movement was painful. _So, at least nothing broken. That would've really sucked. _

He wiped his hand on his sleeve uniforms and spat a pink mixture of blood and spit, turning sharply at the sound of approaching fast steps.

Having run out behind a corner members of Team One froze for a split second, covering the anxious tense glance at the picture in front of them.

A huge man lying on the ground, face down, and with his hands behind his head, and Ed , with a Glock in one hand, the other hand against his throat, dirty and exhausted, blood on his face and hands.

Spike, Sam and Leah headed straight for the guy , cuffed him, lifted him off the ground. Now, as he stood upright in full growth, his huge size was especially evident. He was almost a head taller than the people standing on either side of him.

Greg quickly approached his team leader, who slowly sank to the ground, leaning back against the wall.

Now that his team was here, the adrenaline was gone, and Ed became weak, like a stuffed toy, but his heart still desperately trying to bust its way out of his ribcage.

Greg squatted down beside his friend and gave him a worried look, wondering just how bad Ed's condition was. Seeing no outward signs of any severe bleeding, noting only the injured finger, a cut lip and a grazes and scratches on his face Greg felt some relief.

"_He's alive, thank God,_" he repeated mentally.

But seeing the beginning of a bruise on the Ed's face, his tightly compressed lips and the way he gripped his throat and hugged his stomach protectively - all this gave Greg a strong suspicion that, nevertheless, there may be more damage than a couple of bruises.

"Hey, what happened here, buddy? You hurt?" He asked softly, hearing his voice tight from the recent fear for his friend.

Ed waved and snapped hoarsely, "I'm fine. Let the police add charges on that bastard for the attempted murder of a police officer," he tightly shut his eyes, as he touched the especially painful place on his throat.

"Murder? Ed, are you serious?" Jules sat nearby, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Come on. I need to check it out, okay?" She warned softly and touched bloody hands of Ed, lying on his throat, intending to examine any possible injuries of his team leader.

Ed's eyes flew open. "Don't!" he flinched away from her touch and sharply pushed her hand. Jules recoiled in shock.

"Eddie?" Greg queried worriedly, his concern for his friend immediately increased by several orders.

"I said, I'm fine! Never better," croaked Ed irritably, well aware all the evidence pointed to the contrary.

He was in a mess and he knew it. Mess not only physically, but more mentally. He was angry at himself and very confused, but he didn't have the strength to hide his emotions from the team just now .

Ed looked at the guy, whom Sam and Spike currently passed to arrived police officers, and finally carefully considered his opponent. The guy was huge, but it is still obvious that he was not much older than Clark.

_Yes, a maximum of 20 years old, hardly more. Awesome! He is the leader of the best team of elite police units, he's a professional, he is damn number 1! And some stupid teenager just almost killed him!_

He closed his eyes again, trying to regain his shattered composure and starting to feel the physical effects of the battle.

Ed knew that his team was standing nearby, anxiously watching him. He avoided looking at them and was grateful for the absence of awkward questions right now.

Questions that would definitely come later. But now he just needs to find in his tortured body strength to stand up and get away from here.

"Hey," he heard a soft, uptight Greg's voice next to him "I'm not going to touch anything, okay? Just tell me how much you hurt? Where it hurts, Eddie?"

He smiled wryly, and immediately coughed again, wincing painfully. His body was aching everywhere, bruised and battered. A nasty shiver still shook him. His muscles were stiff and painful. Any movement seemed a very bad idea right now.

Much as he hated to move right now, lying here on the ground for any length of time was not really an option. He opened his eyes and looked at his teammates surrounding him, imagining how he looks in their eyes right now. Battered, dirty, sitting in the mud, shivering. Wuss. Screwed up. Old.

"No harm done," he planted a hand firmly on the dirt and pushed himself up, climbing slowly and unsteadily to his knees and, with the aid of the nearest wall, eventually to his feet.

He stood swaying queasily, waiting until the dizziness was gone, not quite secure enough on his feet to let go of that wall just yet.

"Sarge, I'm worried about him. He should be examined by EMS," He heard a soft worried Jules's voice behind him as she appealed to Greg. Ed frowned in annoyance. Why did women always have to be so damned perceptive?

"I do not need a medical check," he said stubbornly through gritted teeth.

"Don't know, Ed, last time I checked, you didn't have a medical degree." Greg tried to defuse the situation with a joke, "So, I prefer doctors to be judge of that. Come on, let's get you to medics," Greg gently took Ed's shoulder, smiling.

The ploy doesn't work.

"I said no! Back off!" Ed barked sharply shaking Greg's hand off and instantly ashamed of his nervous breakdown, seeing the stunned expression of his friend. He'd really never felt so out of control before.

He really felt he'd be better off alone right now. Crawl into some dark hole, lick his wounds and then return to his team, as the usual strong confident leader that he was. He hated to see the worried looks that his colleagues were throwing at him. Their compassion and anxiety seemed to him degrading, making him weak and helpless.

Ed finally let go of the wall and walked down the aisle to the exit, sending Sam a murderous glare as he stepped to Ed, apparently intending to help him stay on his feet. No way in hell was he going to be supported by anyone when he could very well walk on his own. His pride suffered enough today!

Silently, his teammates watched his shaky movements, exchanging looks behind him, shock and worry clearly etched on their faces . They began to follow Ed, not daring to approach him, for fear of causing further distress.

"Guys..." Greg said softly, drawing the attention of the other members of the team "Wait. Give me a minute, okay? " He nodded his head slowly in the direction of Ed.

"But Boss ..." Jules beginning, she did not hide her anxiety.

"Not now, okay? I'll take care of. This is just a rough day for everyone. See you in the Barn," Greg gently but firmly stopped her and then hurried after his a troubled team leader.

He caught up with Ed and just walking next to him some time, without asking anything and just listening to the raspy breathing of his friend and sympathetic wincing when he again began to cough painfully. At last they came to a place where their SUVs were parked.

"OK, buddy. It's over. But first, let's you to the medics. Don't argue." He overtook Ed and stood in his way, smiling good-natured and trying to direct him towards EMS cars.

Ed backed away as Greg came closer to him.

"Boss, no." He wheezed and shook his head. " Listen. I'm fine. Well, not fine, but okay. I did get a little battered, but not enough to go to the hospital."

He rubbed his eyes and continued more quietly, "Greg, I'm not going to spend a few hours to hear eventually that I have a couple of bruises and scratches that ordinary painkillers will perfectly cope with." He paused, speaking clearly gave him pain. Furious and the defensive expression on his face gone, now he just looked dead tired. "Greg, look ... If necessary, I'll go to the hospital for examination. But tomorrow, okay? Now I just want to shower. Clean clothes. Sleep. I want this damn shift finally over, can you understand?" His voice was taut, " I'm off. Now. " He ended decisively and headed towards his SUV.

Greg watched him go, conflicting thoughts filled his head. Certainly he could give Ed a direct order to go to the EMS and then to the hospital. Ed will be forced to obey and apparently there really would be, as Ed said - some long wearisome hours of waiting in ER, tests, analyzes, again a long wait and finally a prescription for ordinary painkiller. They passed this routine many times . As a boss, he's certainly obliged to insist on a medical check for Ed.

But if EMC take Ed to the hospital... _They will!_ Then Greg would go along with him. As a boss and as a friend. Because Ed would have done the same for him ... _And then you definitely do not have time to say goodbye to your son before he leaves _- a small and insidious voice whispered in his mind.

He gave a look of appraisal at Ed. In any case, now he was not staggering. A definite improvement. It is obvious that Ed has fought a good fight. But he's conscious, he can go himself and he is "not fine, but okay."

Greg sighed wearily. So, what Ed really needed right now - this is a rest and painkillers. And tomorrow Greg personally will take him to the hospital for a check-up, as if his stubborn friend did not resist.

_Damn, what a few hours can change?_ Having made the decision, Greg caught up with his friend at the SUV and decisively took the driver's seat. Ed didn't argue, rounded the car and slowly sat down on the passenger seat, immediately leaning back and closing his eyes.

Greg started the engine and looked anxiously again at the man sitting next to him.

Ed, as if sensing the glance, released exasperated sigh, "Greg, stop looking at me, like I'm going to roll onto the floor and start frothing at the mouth at any minute. I'm fine."

"As always, huh? I'm an idiot worried about you, am I? " Greg muttered darkly, clenching the steering wheel.

"Ok, Greg, I'm sorry." Ed opened his eyes and grimaced, gently changing his position on the seat, trying to take off the pressure from sore spot in his back and midsection. A throbbing pain in this area began to compete seriously with his injured throat. "Listen. I'm exhausted, it hurts to swallow, my throat is killing me, my head hurts. I'm aching all over. But we've both had worse." He sighed and coughed again

"Water?" he asked in a hoarse croak

Greg reached back and silently handed Ed a water bottle, which he immediately opened and began to drink greedily, grimacing with each swallow. He groaned involuntarily, immediately received another nervous glance from Greg. He did not have the strength to speak and just put a cold bottle to his aching head, staring silently in front of him, as Greg went on the road.

...

"Stop. This is the other road," suddenly Ed turned to Greg in a couple of minutes.

"I know the way to your house," Greg answered without taking his eyes off the road.

"No. Head to the Barn!" Ed resolutely replied, his voice was hoarse and dry.

Greg released a tired sigh. "Look, no debriefing for you. As you just said - a shower, rest, sleep. Painkillers. All this waiting for you at home, in 20 minutes."

"Damn it, stop!" Ed started to pull his hand to the steering wheel. Greg cursed, pulled the car over to the curb and stopped.

"What's the matter?" he exclaimed angrily, "What now, Ed? I have done as you want! no medics! no questions, what else?" he irritably stared at his friend, whose stubbornness sometimes really pissed him off. Now he was too tired to keep his irritation in check.

"Greg. I can't go home like this. Clarke. He is at home right now... he doesn't need to see me now ..." Ed's voice was soft, almost pleading. Slowly, he raised up his hands, crusted with blood dries, showing on his dirty, battered, blood smeared face and shook his head.

Greg groaned.

"I'm sorry, buddy. I'm such an idiot," he exhaled loudly and for a moment closed his eyes tightly. "Okay. Then Barn. Shower. Clean clothes. And you let Jules handle your hand and face. Then I'll take you home, do not argue. Pizza and conversations can wait until another time. "

Ed just silently nodded and closed his eyes powerlessly, leaned back.

"Okay, Eddie, rest ..." Greg sighed and they moved towards the HQ SRU.


	6. Chapter 6

Ed was standing under the shower, having rested his hands on the wall in front of him and placing his aching head powerlessly to them. He's been here for a long time.

Dirt and gore from his body had been washed away long ago, but he continued to stand there, letting the warm water flow over his head and back, exhausted and lost in his gloomy thoughts.

If the water could just as easily wash away all the other stuff. His shame and disgrace, his weakness and failing.

"Ed? Are you all right?" Spike's worried voice came near his stall. Ed sighed and turned off the water.

"I'm fine," he said mechanically, continuing to stand leaning on the wall and looking at the floor.

"Okay... We'll be in the briefing room," Spike paused, but there was heard, that he continues to stand nearby, "Ed, just if you need-"

"I don't need your help, Spike!" Ed cut him off furiously, through clenched teeth, not giving Spike to finish.

_Damn Spike with his care and help! He is able to deal with his problems on his own!_ A new wave of anger and despondency washed over him.

"Okay, Ed" Spike's voice has become tougher, "I did not offer you my help. I just wanted to ask if you need coffee, I went to the coffee machine," then his footsteps retreated.

"_Oh, great!_ _Now he has offended Spike. Shit, it was really rough. Well, one more mistake and a new reason to be ashamed of "_ Ed moaned softly.

He took a towel and began to slowly, gently wipe his face and his aching body , listening to the sounds in the locker room, waiting for the others to leave the room before he comes out of the shower. He did not want his guys to see him now with all the bruises and injuries.

And so much was hurting him. He gently touched his throat and stomach. The pain was not diminishing, and seemed to become even stronger. In addition there was agony in the small of his back. _Probably hurt by falling on his back_, he thought sluggishly.

He ached everywhere_. "Alright. So, it should be after the adrenaline rush. This is normal. I'm okay ..."_ he comforted himself, panting through the pain.

"If every call would go like this, I would ask for another 2-3 additional sets of uniforms!" the exasperated Sam's exclamation sounded loudly in the half-empty locker room. Then crashing violently slam the iron door came. Footsteps. Finally there was the sound of the closing door and silence.

_All right, he was there alone. _

Ed slowly dragged himself to his locker, opened it and took out his civilian clothing. He slowly, methodically , began to dress. He was fully exhausted. The emotional and physical fallout of the last few hours pushed him to his limit. He need to switch on the internal auto pilot to survive the debriefing until he could get home. Then he needed to be able to get to his dark bedroom unnoticed... then he could crash.

He'd throw himself across his bed, most likely still fully clothed, and fall into a sleep that he knew would be deep and dreamless.

His family will not bother him as long as he does not wake up, no matter how many hours it may take. During his years of police work, Sophie and Clark many times witnessed him return home from work like this. They do not ask, just quietly closed the bedroom door, giving Ed peace and quiet that he needs.

Ed looked at himself in the mirror, looking at more noticeable now red and blue bruises on his throat and face, swollen cheek, broken lips_. "Not good ,"_ sadly he thought, _"It will be difficult to hide from Sophie ..." _

He hated when she noticed his injuries and then long worried because of it. Tomorrow, when she comes back, bruises on his face will be even more obvious.

He thought for a moment about persuade Sophie stay with her relatives for a few days more, and letting Clark visit one of his friends. But no... His wife knows him all too well, she will not be fooled by it. And a few days would hardly remove the traces of injuries on his face and body.

_"Well, after all, it could have ended a lot worse," _Ed frowned, banishing dark thoughts. He zipped up to the chin the collar on the jacket, as high as possible, picking it up and looked at himself in reflection. _Much better, though the throat and bruises on it not visible now._ Satisfied, he nodded to himself.

Okay, now he just has to go through a debriefing, and then he somehow gets to the home, crawl into bed, sleep for day and night and wake up as good as new.

He slowly walked out of the locker room and scuffed toward the briefing room.

…

"Ed?" Surprised voice Greg met him in the open door, " I'm sorry, I thought that we would end quickly."

Ed was also surprised. Very surprised and very angry. Unbelievable! They were doing debriefing without him!

He silently approached to his chair and sat down, quietly gasped and tight-lipped when deep pain in his midsection broke out with new force from his sitting position.

He looked gloomily at his teammates around the table , seeing on their faces anxiety, fatigue and ... embarrassment? awkwardness? Heart in his chest sinking lower. What is it - a fantasy his weary brain or his colleagues are really uncomfortable, just by being near him now? He watched as Sam quickly looks away ... Is he so disappointed in Ed that he can't even look at him now?

"Ed, you don't have to be here now, this is not necessarily," quietly said Greg, " We will finish in 10 minutes. You can rest while we-" He did not finish, as Ed cut him off.

"Every member of the team must be present at the debriefing, is not it, Boss? I'm still on the team?" Ed said slowly in a low voice , looking at Greg intently, trying to remain calm. It was painful to speak, every word was giving him great difficulty, and he strained all forces not to show their discomfort to others.

"For God's sake, Ed!" Greg released exasperated sigh, closing his eyes wearily and shook his head. He was dog-tired and the last thing he wanted now, was to sort things out with anyone, especially with his friend, who suddenly decided to play the Drama Queen . At what Ed is offended? Greg decided to make a quick debriefing without Ed, when Spike came and told him worriedly that Ed is still in the shower and he's still obviously in a mess.

Greg sincerely wanted to give his friend time to be alone and get back to a normal emotional state. He wanted to free the team as soon as possible and take his exhausted friend home! And now Ed, frowning, sitting nearby like a dark cloud, offended, his mouth pressed into a tight line!

"We just wanted to get it over with quickly, Ed. Rest, sleep, do you remember?" Greg smiled conciliatory and without waiting for an answer gently slapped his hand down on the table, making it clear that this debate is closed, "All right, go ahead."

Ed forced himself to calm down. _But how could they do debriefing without him? _

He should be here.

It's his job to give an objective assessment of the actions of his group and individual actions every team member. Funny, were colleagues going to do an analysis of errors, committed by him, without him being in the room?

If they perhaps wanted to spare his wounded pride? Hell, he does not need their pity and sympathy. Who but himself can judge his mistakes? When it need to analysis of his own actions, he will do it. Calmly and honestly talk about how he relaxed, distracted and as a result a 20-year-old boy caught him unawares, off guard.

Debriefing continued.

He forced himself to concentrate, listening to the discussion of the first of the hot calls. Being tired, everyone was trying to be as brief as possible, exchanging silent remarks, maybe even a little hastily, as if they were in a hurry to go to the part that really require serious analysis.

Ed barely participated in the discussion, just occasionally inserting comments in his low hoarse voice. Even just sitting was difficult, and pronouncing every word and every breath felt like torture. It seemed like a piece of glass stuck somewhere deep in his throat.

He swallowed, grimacing and clenching his teeth, like a sudden wave of nausea rose from his stomach. Oh, just fine. Now this. He's not going to puke in the briefing room, no way.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he fought the urge to vomit, making slow, deep breaths cautious. He seemed almost regained control of his body surrendering, but suddenly a bout of harsh coughing stole his breath away. Every time he inhaled, a cough tore through him.

Coughing fit finally over, Ed put his head down, hoarse breathing through the pain, clenched his trembling hands into fists.

Suddenly he realized that the voices around the table fell silent and only the voice of the sergeant beside him, calling him by name. Ed opened his eyes and raised his head, looking around him, having seen disturbing sights aimed at him, as the room swam before him. Hesitantly, he grabbed of the edge of the table, staring straight ahead with a stunned look, trying to make the room stop spinning.

Was it him or was the room suddenly stuffy and hot?

Every next breath became harder to do. The pain in his throat was almost unbearable now, something began to squeeze his throat, giving the feeling as if the hands of those guy still strangle him.

A hot, trickle of sweat running down his forehead, and he desperately sucked in his breath. It seemed that the high collar of his jacket was strangling him.

With a trembling hand, he reached out and opened the zipper, pulling the collar off. Hearing a loud curse next to him, he raised his gaze and saw Greg standing up, staring in horror at his throat.

_Oh shit!_ Greg looked in shock at the dark stains now visible at the open collar.

"Can't ... Can't breathe ..." Ed's wide-open eyes staring in panic at the sergeant. He started trying to get up, leaning on a table with one hand and the second holding his throat and Greg immediately, quickly rounded the corner of the table grabbed Ed by the shoulders, holding him sitting.

"Boss?" out of the corner of his eye Greg saw all teammates jumped to their feet. They sat at a distance and have not seen what saw Greg.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Eddie, sit down. Let me see. Easy, easy ..." Greg continued to hold Ed sitting in the chair, gently trying to remove Ed's hand from his throat.

Ed began to shake badly. The growing panic demanded from his body to breathe, but her throat refused to give sufficient air flow, which he so desperately craved.

"Can't ..." he wheezed again.

"Eddie, don't say. Try to calm down, just breathe, please," Greg gently removed Ed's hand, opening wider collar of his jacket. Now, the huge red-blue fingerprints, surrounding Ed's throat became visible to all.

"Spike, tell Winnie we need EMS, now!" Greg struggled to keep his voice calm.

Spike gave him a shocked look and immediately rushed to the door, nearly crashing into a motionless Sam, and screaming Winnie about an EMS.

Greg prayed paramedics will be in time. He watched as Jules ran out of the briefing room, but did not have time to think about the reason for this. Leah and Spike were now beside him, helping him keep Ed in the chair. Only Sam, he noticed, was standing frozen in the distance, eyeing with stunned look at the scene in front of him .

Ed grew more hectic, his face was pale and covered with sweat, breathing became increasingly labored, his eyes wandered without purpose. He began to try get up again, did not seem to hear soothing words that Greg and others continued to talk to him, pushing away the hands that held him in place. Suddenly, he began to rock.

"Spike! Help me put him on the floor, he is going to fall!" Greg exclaimed. Together, they carefully laid Ed on the floor, knelt down at his side and looked blankly at each other.

"What's going on with him, Boss?" Spike's dark eyes were now almost black with excitement, "It may be just a panic?"

"I'm afraid not. He is really suffocating, Spike ," Greg said quietly, staring at the Ed and mentally begging medics rush, "We just need to keep him calm. He'll be fine," he whispered and his voice trembled .

Next to briefing room began to assemble other employees who heard Spike's shouting to ambulance and anxiously looking inside.

"Greg ..." the sergeant heard between panting breaths, "Help ..." Ed's glance hardly focused on his friend's face above him. He slowly raised his trembling hand, trying to reach his throat again and Greg immediately took his hand in his, compressing tightly, trying to give to him by the contact comfort and support he needed.

"Eddie. EMS will be here soon. Hold on, please. Just breathe, easy..." Greg softly asked, keeping his voice calm and confident, professional suppressing all external manifestations of his inner horror.

Jules ran into the briefing room, pushing past people standing in her way, carrying several cooling packages and fell to her knees next to Ed, gently putting them to the bruises on his throat.

"The cold. Reduce swelling." Her voice trembled, " Stop, guys! You have to lift him! It's easier to breathe in a sitting position."

Greg sat down against the wall. Together, they lifted the now semi-conscious Lane, leaning his back against the sergeant's chest. Parker held firmly to sluggish body, helping him to sit. He was glad that he could do something useful now to help his friend. Anxiously, they listened to each inhalation from Ed.

It was obvious that while changing the position eased Lane's breathing , but only insignificantly, and he strained for each and every breath. Soon, his eyes began to close and his head fell forward powerlessly.

The frightened cries Leah and Jules heard next to him.

"No, no, Eddie, don't you dare close your eyes, you hear me? It's an order! Breathe with me here, buddy, in and out..." said Greg softly, praying Ed heard him and obeyed.

Ed's eyes opened a hairsbreadth as he took rapid and painful breaths, but hard and fast shallow breaths did little to help him.

On the periphery of his consciousness, he vaguely heard the pleading words of Greg. The words came slowly, dreamily down a long tunnel. He desperately tried to follow the request of his friend, struggling with the impending darkness. But he was beginning to lose. _What a day ... I've lost all my battle _... He is felt like he was falling into a black bottomless pit.

The last thought his darkened mind was a bitter humbling, finding that he was falling into the dark instead of being lifted into a white light. He is always suspected that there would not be for him, sniper, who regularly taking away someone's life, any fluffy white clouds and cute little angels with harps.

But sometimes, he allowed himself a little hope_. "I'm so sorry ..."_ Mentally he apologized to all - his wife and children, his friends, his victims and their relatives, all of those he'd been unable to save or help.. Now he was so tired. His eyelids drooped.

And there was nothing more.


	7. Chapter 7

_Warning: I am a doctor, so the descriptions of injuries, medical procedures, damages in all of my stories are quite detailed and realistic. Do not read it, if you don't like it or if you have a problem with such things._

_…_

7.

"What's going on?" Commander Holleran quickly entered the briefing room. He paused a second, taking in the entire scene at once and then stepped up to his men, not hiding his concern.

Greg, enveloped in icy terror, did not even turn his head toward the chief just continued to hold Ed, listening to his raspy breathing and watching the weak movements of his chest.

Spike, who was kneeled next to them, jumped to his feet and spun around to Holleran. His face was pale. "What's going on? Huge bastard the size of Godzilla nearly strangled Ed on this call!" he said. In desperation, he pushed a chair standing next to him away and it crashed with a thud into the table.

Holleran did not respond to this emotional outburst from his young officer. He crouched next to Greg and Ed. As he saw the dark bruises on the Ed's face and throat, his eyes widened a mixture of shock and anxiety.

"Damn, Greg, how could this happen? It was supposed to be such a simple call," he muttered both in annoyance and sympathy.

"Yes, sir. Was supposed to be," sergeant replied, the defeated sound of pain was evident in his voice.

Spike, standing nearby, gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah, a piece of cake!" he kept his eyes on Ed, involuntarily recalling their morning argument with Ed and Greg. How fast fate decided to prove to all of them the bitter fact that there is not and cannot be a separation of calls between serious and simple in this job...

Sam's strained voice sounded beside them. "But he was ok just five minutes ago!" the young officer seemed to have finally been able to overcome his shock. "What's wrong with him? Jules?" he asked huskily.

Jules, continuing to hold the ice packs against Ed's throat, turned her head quickly at the question.

"Sam, I'm not a doctor!" she exclaimed, "Maybe there is some internal damage. God, I really do not know! I told you, he should have been sent to the hospital immediately! " her voice trembled. She turned away, blinking tight and wiped a tear from one cheek with the side of her hand.

"Why didn't the medics take him to the hospital?" Holleran stood up and looked around at all membership Team One, "Or did Ed refuse?"

There was a pause, no one seemed to be able to look at each other.

"Sir, he was not even examined by medics," Greg looked up at the Commander, his voice was tight, " He said he was fine and I didn't insist on medical check, although it was obviously necessary. It's all my fault, sir, " he ended flatly.

Holleran frowned. "Ok, Greg, calm down. We-" he did not finish, as Jules, looking at Ed, gasped.

"Sarge, his lips are turning blue!"

Greg frantically shook Ed's shoulder, "Don't! Ed! Breathe, dammit!" he put his fingers to the point of the pulse on the Ed's neck, relieved by finding the beating. Too fast, but at least it was there.

The Commander looked with horror at the unconscious officer, whose lips are really beginning to take a bluish tint. "Where the hell are those paramedics?" he shouted in the direction of the control room.

"ETA is one minute," quickly replied Winnie.

Immediately after her words they heard the sound of the door opening, someone's quick steps followed and the crowd at the doors parted. Three paramedics, rolling a stretcher, quickly entered the briefing room, heading to Greg and Ed who were surrounded by their anxious colleagues.

"We'll need you to step back, please," a strict calm voice made the officers to step aside. They silently retreated, but remained in the briefing room, with excitement and hope watching the paramedics work.

"What do we have?" asked one of the paramedics as he knelt down on the floor next to Ed and looked at Greg questioningly. But even before the sergeant could answer, the medic noted a bluish color of the lips of the unconscious man, bruises on his face and throat, difficulty breathing and quickly began to give the necessary orders to his colleagues.

"He can't breathe," Greg said as he watched the paramedic lifted Ed's eyelid, conducting a rapid assessment of his condition. "About an hour ago, he was strangled, but he seemed ok. He just complained it hurt swallow, he was speaking hoarsely, holding on to his throat, coughing heavily. That's all. A few minutes ago, it suddenly became hard for him to breathe and then everything happened very fast, " he had no idea how he managed to sound so calm when he was so scared.

The medic nodded, "Okay. I need to check his throat... I see some bruises that look like they were made by fingers. Tell me, was he strangled by hand only? For how long? Was he also hit in the throat?" he threw a quick look at Greg, continuing to check Ed.

"I don't know... I'm sorry," Greg shook his head, internally cursed himself. He heard the softly swearing Sam and could not blame him for that.

"Did you see if he was coughing up blood?" A new quick question followed as a medic gently unclenched Ed's jaw, shining a flashlight inside to check his throat.

"There was blood on his lips. Yes, I saw him spitting blood. But I don't know if it was the blood from his throat or lips," Greg replied flatly.

"Okay. Lay him down flat." They carefully laid the unconscious body on the floor.

Greg heaved himself to his feet and slowly retreated back to standing in silence next to his Commander and teammates, watching the quick concerted movements of the paramedics. An oxygen mask was placed on Ed's pale face. His jacket was removed, the black T-shirt underneath was cut away. Pulsimetr and heart monitor sensors were placed on his body and immediately there was a quick beeping. Greg took a step forward again, coming closer to hear what the medics say.

"Mike, prepare the intubation set for me," one of the paramedics ordered.

"You want to intubate?" the second looked questioningly, "Pete, this is risky. His oxygenation is improving, let's not rush."

"Guy's, there is a hematoma," the third medic suddenly pointed at Ed's belly, there was an alarm in his voice.

Frowning, the one named Mike gently probed Ed's belly. "It's tense. Help me turn him over. Need to check his back." They carefully turned the unconscious officer on his side, attentively examining his back.

"Yes, there is a hematoma in his lower back," he confirmed and they gently returned Ed to his previous position on his back.

"Officers," the paramedic turned to Greg and the others, "Besides the problems with breathing, did he complain about anything else? Pain in his stomach, his back? Nausea?"

They glanced nervously at each other.

"He did not complain, but I think his stomach and back were really bothering him," Greg said, recalling how Ed was curled protectively around his middle. Another medic at that time talked on the radio with the hospital, quickly giving the necessary information.

"Doc, can you tell us what's wrong with him?" Spike finally dared to ask a question that worried everyone in the briefing room.

"A throat trauma. Severe swelling constricts the airways, limiting the passage of air. Abdominal trauma. It seems like it's his right kidney," the paramedic answered in short, quick sentences, while continuing to work on Ed.

IV line was already established in Ed's hand and some kind of clear liquid ran out of the bag, which another medic held raised in his hand. Mike sighed and turned around. "There could be some internal bleeding ..."

"God!" Leah gasped quietly.

"It's ... it's serious, right? How bad is it?" Spike asked, looking anxiously at the medics. The others stayed silent, stunned.

"Everything will be clear after the tests, sir," the paramedic replied evasively and looked at a group of officers. "Is anyone going to the hospital with him?"

"I'll go. I'm his emergency contact, " Greg said hoarsely.

They gently lifted Ed's unconscious body onto the stretcher , putting a heart monitor between his legs and quickly headed for the exit.

Greg followed them, feeling oddly numb and as if he was watching everything that was happening from the outside. _It's a shock, just a shock_, the professional part of his brain coldly stated.

"Which hospital are you taking him to?" Holleran asked the paramedics as they moved past him.

"Mount Sinai"

"Boss, we'll follow you," Greg heard Spike's shout behind him.

"Ok" he nodded, not even turning around and not taking his eyes off the stretcher, that paramedics moved on in front of him. Holleran looked at the Greg's face, frowning, stepped up to him and walking beside, quietly saying something to him.

The doors closed and where a few seconds ago was a flurry of activity now hung heavy silence. Gathered at the door briefing room colleagues from other groups began to depart, saying the quietly words of encouragement for the four remaining members of Team One. The activities of SRU HQ began to come return to normal.

…

Spike, Sam, Jules and Leah were silently standing in the empty briefing room, giving themself a moment to try to collect their thoughts and calm down a little.

The sudden sound of someone's cell broke the tense silence. The sound was coming from Ed's jacket, which was lying on the floor. They looked at each other in consternation, all of them knowing who might be calling.

The cell kept ringing but nobody dared to answer. Finally Jules slowly approached, lifted the jacket and pulled out the cell. As she saw the name of the caller, she pressed a hand to her mouth in a gesture of despair.

She lifted her head, looked at her co-workers with frightened eyes and voiced what they were afraid to hear.

"Sophie. I can't," she said quietly, laying still ringing phone on the table. "God, I do not know what to say! How to say!" She shook her head, covering his face with her hands. The cell finally stopped.

"We have to inform her..." Spike stepped to the table but stopped, hesitated, "It may be better just to tell her that she should go directly to the hospital?" he looked helplessly on his teammates.

"She is not in Toronto at present, Ed told me. I think she'll call Sarge right now. He will be able to explain everything to her, I hope," Leah said softly.

"Explain what?" Sam exclaimed, "Can any of you explain anything right now?" He looked around the silent people.

All silent grimly, not looking at each other.

Jules sighed and resolutely took the phone, putting it in the pocket of her jacket. "Come on, guys. If Sophie calls again I'll answer. Let's go," she went hurriedly out. The others followed her.

...

In the ambulance Greg, sitting silently in the corner, could only watch helplessly the work of paramedics. He listened to their clipped, professional exchanges, his mind taking in the details as his eyes stayed locked on the pale unconscious figure on the gurney. He hated it when he could do nothing but pray. To pray and to think.

God, how had he allowed this happen to his friend, a member of his team? None of this had to happen, but Greg made a mistake. Not even a mistake but criminal negligence, there was no use kidding himself. He screwed up as a boss and as a friend, undoubtedly. The Commander was trying to persuade him not to blame himself, tried to calm him down, ask him not to make any immediate conclusions right now. That's ridiculous. Holleran doesn't know everything... But Greg knows.

He had so stubbornly wanted to get home in time to hug Dean before he left. Team One had been called out urgently yesterday evening and neither of them had time to say goodbye. It was the first time that Dean had left without his father accompanying him, hugging him. No, Greg refused to believe in bad omens. But the sickening fear that Dean for some reason wouldn't be able to return, and he did not even say goodbye to him, not even hug him, this fear was driving Greg's crazy all day long. How stupid!

He allowed his inner fears and selfishness, his personal problems to affect his judgment, his choices. And this was the result.

Now he has to live with his choice and its consequences.

He needs Ed to be ok, so he could to tell him how much he is sorry. How much he is guilty before him. And then he will leave. How could he stay in the SRU? Could he be the leader of the group after that? How could Ed and the guys trust him after that? Will they be able to forgive him?

A sharp ring from his cell startled him. He took out his phone and as he saw the name on the screen , he froze.

Sophie. He must inform Sophie. But how could he explain to her everything now, admit to her?

(_Hey, Soph! Ed was cruelly beaten and nearly suffocated, but I was too tired and full of my own problems and allowed him to go without a medical check. So now your husband and the father of your children is unconscious, barely breathing, he has an internal bleeding and only God knows whether he will survive. And all because my head was filled with my fears_.)

Phone went dead. _God, I'm such a coward!_ He closed his eyes, silently groaned in despair.

"Sir, I need you to answer a few questions. Sir? " Greg's head snapped up, suddenly realizing that the paramedic shakes his shoulder. "You all right, sir?" The medic stared at Greg.

"Fine," he said shortly.

"Does Mr. Lane take any meds? Does he have the allergy to any medicinal preparations?" More questions followed...

Greg forced himself to focus, responding. Now was not the time to feel sorry for himself. He took a deep breath. _Ed will be okay. We'll get to the hospital, the doctors check him and tell me he'll be fine. A couple of bruises. Painkillers. Yes... Then I'll call Sophie and tell her that her husband is in the hospital, but he is OK, no cause for concern. I'll say that Ed is sure to be fine. He has to! Damn, you stubborn son of a bitch, be fine. I beg of you, Eddie, for the sake of all of us, be fine ... _

_..._

_Tonight or tomorrow will be 8 and 9 chapters, I promise. Actually, this story is completed a long time ago - in Russian :) But translation takes a lot of time - it seems as if I write the whole story from the beginning._


	8. Chapter 8

A half hour later, the rest of the group had arrived at the hospital and found Greg, sitting alone in a hospital lounge. He turned his head wearily in response to their challenge. Seeing his defeated expression, drooping shoulders and blank stare, Jules froze for a moment, her face went pale.

"Boss? Any news on Ed?" Sam asked tensely, standing at the rear of the group.

Greg has released a tired sigh and gave them a little smile encouragingly, seeing the anxious nervous glances directed at him.

"They haven't allowed me go inside. Said they stabilized him. It's all for now. Took him up somewhere, some more tests. Told me just to wait, " he rubbed his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, "Here I am waiting."

"Sarge. Sophie called recently... On Ed's cell. We were not able to answer her," Jules said quietly.

"It's all right. I've already talked to her. She and Isabel are with their relatives now, away from Toronto. They'll return tomorrow morning," he paused, "Guys, you all don't have to wait here, you're all tired. Go home, get some sleep, and I'll inform you... " he ended wearily.

Without saying a word, his team settled near him. He did not have the energy to argue, so he just nodded and continued to wait, stared dismally at nothing.

An hour earlier it had seemed like the world was running in fast-forward. Everything had been hectic, frantic, barely controlled chaos ... but at least he'd had something to do. The second that ER door had closed in his face, it felt him like someone had pushed the pause button and he'd become a minor character in this drama, not even allowed to watch the truly pivotal scene. And he hated it.

Only when his body became numb and protested involuntarily when he attempted to change the position, he suddenly realized that he'd fallen asleep, without noticing it. He glanced at his watch and notice that an hour had passed. Greg tried to find a comfortable position for his tired body and looked at his teammates.

Jules was asleep on Sam's shoulder, who was sitting straight, frowning, deep in his thought. Spike, who in the beginning of their vigil walked nervously around the room, now was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the wall, eyes closed. Leah was asleep, curled up uncomfortably in a chair.

Greg looked closely at Sam. He began to worry about the strange behavior of young man, his aloofness and gloomy brooding. The sergeant knew that he needed to talk with his officer, to find out what was eating at him. Obviously, there was something more than just the excitement of Ed's injury. But he had no power to communicate now. Later, he would talk to Sam later...

...

The door opened and they were instantly on their feet.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Nolan. I'm the ER attending today. You are with Mr. Lane, I suppose?" tall dark-haired middle-aged man in a white coat worn over scrubs, entered the waiting room and looked at the SRU officers.

They crowded around the doctor, looking at his face and anxiously waiting for information.

"Doc? How is he?" Greg asked the main question that troubled all of them.

The doctor looked at the people standing in front of him "You are his colleagues? I'm sorry, I'd like to first to talk with someone from his family-"

"I'm his emergency contact. His wife will be here in the morning, I am keeping her informed. We are his team, you can tell us everything," Greg said, hearing the approaching desperation in his voice, "Please. We're his family."

The doctor frowned slightly, but then, looking at their exhausted anxious pleading faces, nodded.

"We stabilized him, made all the necessary tests. On X-rays and CT of his throat we found extensive hematoma, including internally. That's what caused progressive squeezing of his throat and ultimately resulted in serious respiratory failure and hypoxia. Our surgeons are working on the most extensive hematoma - " he doesn't have time to finish.

"The surgeons? You're operating?" several uptight voices sounded at the same time.

"It is necessary. The large internal hematoma not only seriously hampers breathing. There is a risk of sudden rupture and bleeding. This is microoperation, routine drainage, don't worry. There is also damage to the epiglottis, cartilage of the larynx, but in our opinion they do not require surgery, so for this we will only observe" , he looked at shocked faces around him with sympathy, then he went on, "The operation will be over soon and then Edward will be transferred to ICU, and if all goes well, tomorrow you will be able to see him."

No one said a word, realizing that there was more.

The doctor paused for a moment and sighed tiredly. "Besides the throat trauma there are other injuries", he motioned to stop the onslaught of questions. "We are concerned about his right kidney, there is also a hematoma and tear on the capsule, which gives a little internal bleeding. Apparently there was a strong blow to his stomach or his back. But for now everything is stable, so we also have decided to observe for this, there is no need for urgent surgery at this time."

"But there may be another surgery?" Spike interrupted the doctor, looking at him almost with horror.

The doctor smiled softly. "In most cases, the body copes with this type of trauma itself. So there is a good chance that surgery would not be required," he was glad to see his listeners a little less stressed and heard their sighs of relief. "The rest of the trauma - abrasions and bruises. Apparently your guy put up a good fight, right? " the doctor looked sympathetically at SRU officers standing in front of him.

They were silent, trying to grasp all that they heard and strenuously trying to understand how all this could happen. It was such a simple call! But what dreadful consequences it has led to. Surgery. The vision of Ed choking still flashing in front of their eyes.

"Dr. Nolan, may I ask you?" Jules said quietly "I do not understand. Why didn't he begin to choke immediately, rather than an hour later? He was almost normal! We could see that he was beaten, but he was talking, was breathing, he was walking without assistance! If I had known that he was hurt so badly... " she said, tormented.

Doctor Nolan nodded. "Yes. I can explain." He looked around the tired people, " Let's sit down, I think it would be better to talk," he gestured and sat down in a chair, leaning his elbows on his knees, waited until his listeners also sit. Only Sam was left standing a little apart.

"About his throat," the doctor began, "First, tissue swelling in the injured area always increases gradually. In the first few hours it is usually not so strong. Thus didn't immediately interfere with his breathing. Secondly, there was superficial damage to one of the small vessels, located next to his airway. Bleeding after the injury was minor and stopped itself without resulting in a large hematoma. But gradually, as the swelling of the injured area began to increase, Mr. Lane started to experience difficulty breathing and likely began to cough as a reflex. Did he coughed?" doctor asked the silent people.

They nodded and he continued, "Yes. The coughing then provoked an increase in pressure and recurrent bleeding from a damaged vessel. Hematoma began to grow rapidly. So his airways were almost closed and gave such a result, " he looked compassionately at gloomy officers. "But in fact, it could be worse-"

They looked at him blankly.

"There have been cases where patients with similar injuries went home and died, unable to call for help by themselves. Or a patient died in his sleep from internal bleeding," Doctor frowned a little, "His kidney. If the damage was a little stronger, there could be a serious life-threatening situation. Even now he's not completely out of danger. It's good that he was taken to the hospital before it was too late. Although, I think you understand that it would be better for everyone if he were here right after he was injured."

_Oh God_ ... Greg barely heard the quiet and calm explanation from the doctor, _he really could have just taken Ed home and after giving him painkillers, left him alone to sleep_. _And he probably would never have seen his friend alive again_.

Suddenly, Sam, who was standing a short distance away from the group, pressed his eyes and slapped himself on the forehead with a closed fist.

"Damn, it's all my fault! I left him there alone!" he groaned. Terrible overwhelming guilt had been gnawing at Sam since he had run down the aisles, looking for Ed. He turned toward the door, wanting to break free.

The doctor fell silent.

"Stop, Sam. Now hold on there," Greg stood up, "We are going to discuss all this later, can you hear me?" he waited in silence hung. "Sam?"

Sam looked up, his face was grim. Then he nodded.

"Dr. Nolan?" Greg turned back to the medic, "Can we wait until the surgery is over?"

"Sure you can," Dr. Nolan shrugged and stood up, "But today you will not be allowed to see him. And as I see, Mr. Lane was not the only one who had a difficult day. I advise, all of you: go home, leave your contact number and when the operation is over or if anything changes I'll let you know. Get some rest and come back tomorrow at 11a.m., OK? " he smiled at the weary people.

It was reasonable. There was nothing they could do for Ed now, and a degree of their tiredeness, both physical and mental was beyond the limits.

Said goodbye to the doctor, the group silently headed towards the exit.

…

They went outside.

"Sam, wait!" Greg quickly caught up with the young officer, took him by the arm and stands in his way. Sam stopped and frowned at the sergeant, giving him a look that clearly said that this was not the best time for this conversation. But Greg was absolutely not going to let the young man go home to eat himself up with guilt.

"About what you said there," Greg started calmly, standing in front of Sam. The other team members approached and stopped a few feet from the two men, who were starring intensely at each other.

"Listen to me, Sam. I do not know what's going on in your head and what gave you that stupid idea ... but stop it immediately, ok?"

"Boss! You do not understand. If I-" Sam responded in an irritated tone.

"Stop, Sam. This is not your fault, okay? Nobody knew or could have known that something like this could happen. Was nothing you could change there," Greg said as calmly as he could, seeing how tense the young man was.

"Damn it, Sarge!" Sam interrupted him with surprising fierceness, retreating from Greg. "I said , you don't understand! None of you! I should have gone back to Ed, immediately, as soon as I handed over the detainee!" he shook his head in denial.

"Sam-" Greg stepped towards him.

"Boss! Ed clearly told me get back! It was an order. Get back at once! And I did not!" Sam's voice has become louder and angrier, "I called him on the radio, and he didn't answer. But I did not pay attention to it! I was distracted and just stood there joking around and chatting with all of you!" he issued a little hysterical laugh, more like a groan and covered his face with his hands.

"Sam, stop!" Greg was trying to get through to the young man.

Sam took his hands away from his face and looked desperately at the sergeant, " Boss, I wasn't there when that bastard choked him! You say that I am not guilty? " He looked up at Greg with his suffering eyes, "How can I not feel guilty? How can I still work on the same team with Ed or go along on a hot call with him or with any of you?!" Sam paused a moment, panting through clenched teeth. "We have to trust each other completely covering each other's backs, and I didn't do that! I ignored the order. I just decided to take a break, have a drink of water, joke around with all of you, instead of returning immediately to finish my job! And the result - Ed there now on the operating table! " he cried violently and pointed in the direction of the hospital windows.

All were silent. Finally, Greg spoke quietly.

"Sam. I can easily give you a dozen arguments proving that you should not be blaming yourself. But I'm sorry, I will not do it now. Firstly, I'm damn tired. Secondly, you know it, we always blame ourselves when one of the team suffered. Guilty or not, it always seems that there could be other choices, other solutions. Seems that you could change something.

"But I really could!" Sam cried desperately, looking at Greg with a defeated expression.

"Sam! This isn't your fault, can't you get that through your head? None of us blame you, and I'm sure Ed wouldn't either. Come on. No need to discuss anything right now. We all need to relax first..." Greg sighed wearily.

Sam burst into a bitter laugh. "Don't give me that crap, Boss! The rest won't make any difference!" Sam shook his head stubbornly.

"Okay, Sam," Greg's voice raises sharply, "What do you want to hear? You screwed up. But not just you, do you hear me? Not just you!"

Sam raised his head, leaving his dark thoughts and staring blankly at the Sergeant standing before him.

Greg gave a deep sigh. "Sam, it's really to soon to be discussing any of this right now. There will be a detailed analysis of the situation and the actions of each member of the group will be discussed. Nothing is clear right now. Want to know how I can see it now? You acted correctly there, Sam," Greg's voice was serious and firm, "You escorted the detainee. Yeah, you did not come back immediately, as Ed ordered. Incidentally, it was us who distracted and delayed you there, have you forgotten? But apparently the assailant attacked Ed almost immediately after you left. Maybe he watched you both and waited for the moment when you separated, " he paused for a moment. "Your actions were not a mistake. The series of events that occurred during this incident require a calm analysis. Again, it's too many questions. I want to first hear what Ed has to say. Why did he move from his location where you left him. Why didn't he tell someone over the radio that he was going to go to continue the search alone..."

"Boss, do you blame Ed?" exclaimed Spike dumbfounded.

"It's incredible!" Jules looked at Greg in disbelief.

"I do not blame anyone, you know that! But nobody is perfect!" Greg cried out furiously. Then he lowered his voice, "What happened was no one's fault. No errors. It is a working situation. Up to one point. To the point where I let Ed get away without proper medical checks. That was not just a mistake. It was criminal negligence. It's the only thing you can blame..."

"Damn, Boss, you're wrong!" Spike's face darkened.

"Wrong?" Greg chuckled mirthlessly, "I let Ed go without medical examination, though everything pointed to the need for it. If EMS had examined Ed on the site, he would have been immediately taken to the hospital. And his life will not be subjected to such a risk. I should have insisted on it!" Greg looked wearily at Sam, "You know, none of this was your fault, Sam. What you did, was part of the working scenario. But the reason why Ed is now in the operating room - that was entirely my fault." Greg's own demons descended on him.

"Boss ..." Sam shook his head violently. "Don't do this to me!"

"The doctor said clearly - if Ed was in the hospital earlier, everything would be different, just not as bad," Greg intoned dryly.

Standing a little away from the arguing men Jules suddenly took a step toward him.

"Stop it! Both of you! I can't stand to hear any more. We are all to blame! Damn, guys, we all knew that Ed was there alone! Without any support! We all knew that Ed didn't answer the radio when Sam called him. Why did we ignore that fact? " Her voice cracked as she continued. "Boss," she turned to Greg, "I also noticed that Ed was hurt, but I didn't insist that EMS check him either. I could have insisted on it, but I didn't. We are all guilty of the same!" she covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shook. Seeing the conflict between the two people closest to her was the last straw and finally destroyed her self-control.

Greg stepped closer and put his arm around her, allowing her to lower her face to his shoulder. He did not have the strength to talk much, so he just gently stroked her hair for a while, giving her time to calm down a bit. Raising his own face to the sky he let the rain fall freely on it. _God, how did we get into such a mess? More importantly, how we are going to get out of it? _

"Okay, Jules. Shh, it's okay," his eyes sought Sam's, who was standing in confusion nearby, expressively looked at him, then he gently handed Jules to young officer.

"Damn, guys, let's finish this emotional roller coaster, huh?" Spike shook his head dazed ," Your contest which of you is more guilty is certainly very impressive. But the situation is bad enough, we don't need your emotional hara-kiri! I do not think that Ed would have approved of it all, " he sighed and looked at the silent sullen colleagues, "That's enough. I think, Boss is right - we all need to go home. Longer we're here, the more we become crazy. Sorry, but I can no longer listen to it all. I believe in Ed. He's the strongest person I know. He'll be all right, I'm sure. And when he gets better, when we all just calm down, then we are going to talk. This will be the debriefing from hell, I suspect. " He grinned wryly.

Jules moved out of Sam's embrace, wiping her face with a slight smile, but her voice was tense. "Spike is right. We have much to discuss. A few loose ends to tie up. But before that, we have to promise that there will not be any conclusions and any action which then we will be sorry about. You hear me? Sam, Boss? " she seriously looked at men standing nearby. Greg and Sam, both with their heads down, nodded glumly, not giving a verbal response. Too late. Both of them have already made serious conclusions about their role in the incident.

Greg sighed. "Okay, guys. The Commander gave us three full days off, maybe there will be more ... Now all of you get some rest. As soon as there is any information from the doctor, I'll let you know. Can one of you can give me a ride to the Barn, my car's there... "

"Boss, you sure you don't want to go straight home?" Leah asked compassionately.

"Station first, okay?" Greg mumbled and rubbed his face. He did not have to hurry anywhere. He chuckled. "So. I guess the group hug won't be happening... Well. I'll see you tomorrow," he did not have the energy for more words and some action, such as a handshake and a hug. He did not want to embrace. Embrace is a sign of forgiveness, a sign of reconciliation. But there was no forgiveness and reconciliation for himself in his soul.

He had reached his limit. He had been running on pure adrenaline since all this started. But now that was gone. He just wanted to be left alone now, alone with his thoughts. He raised his hand, giving a small wave to his teammates and turned away without word, walked quickly to the car park.

Leah hurried after him, frowning, concerned at his departure. Sergeant distanced himself from the others. As if he was not with them ... _"Oh, Ed! Be ok as soon as possible! Before something irreparable happens. While Team One still exists..." _

Although the sergeant often complained about the fantastic stubbornness of his team leader, he was no less stubborn. If now Boss has decided to blame himself for what happened and for that reason he decided to leave - she could only hope that Ed would be able to get Parker to reconsider.

Greg sat in the back seat of the Leah's car, showing that he was not ready for any conversation. But Leah was in a gloomy mood too, so riding in silence suited her at the moment. Glancing in the mirror, she saw the sergeant has fallen asleep. Well, that's better...

A ringing phone woke Greg, as they drove up to the SRU HQ. Dr. Nolan informed Greg that the operation had been successfully completed, Ed was stable and had been transferred to the recovery room. Greg sighed with relief. Well, now he could call Sophie and the others and finally be able to give them some really good news.


	9. Chapter 9

_Re-Warning: I am a doctor, so the descriptions of injuries, medical procedures, damages in all of my stories are quite detailed and realistic. Do not read it, if you don't like it or if you have a problem with such things._

_…_

Next morning the group gathered at the hospital again. It was like deja vu. The same waiting room, the same silent expectation and tense uncertainty.

Greg looked at the people sitting in the room, thoughtfully. A few hours of sleep and rest almost wiped from their faces the traces of yesterday's fatigue. But as for their emotional state ... Nothing seemed to have changed. _Alas, Sam was right_, he thought, _rest did not change anything_.

Parker took a closer look at the young man, who was sitting in the far corner of the room, arms folded, expression unreadable. Damn, Greg was really hoping that these few hours of rest would have helped Sam be lifted from his emotional abyss. Was hoping that there might be a conversation between Sam and Jules face to face so that the empathetic and sensible Jules could reach out to the young man. Unfortunately, it was obvious that there was no change for the better.

Moreover, to Greg's chagrin, there was noticeably obvious tension in the air between Jules and Sam. He glanced at Jules, wondering whether her red-rimmed eyes and paleness were only a consequence her little cold.

Greg released a heavy sigh. He thought he knew what might have gone wrong in a conversation between two young people. And if his suspicions were correct, then, almost surely, they have one more problem.

_One mistake and everything goes to hell._ As a rockfall begins with one little stone and then sweeps down, destroying everything in its path, so here - his one bad decision, one wrong choice suddenly destroys the lives and fate of his team members, his friends. He looked round at worried people again. He'd failed all of them.

He looked sideways at Leah and Spike. There was no trace of their usual gaiety and good humor on their faces. The two sat gloomily next to each other, talking in a low voice about something, occasionally stealing a worriedly glance at Sophie .

Sophie... His eyes were now fixed on his friend's wife. Greg was not able to tell her everything on the phone yesterday, thinking that would be better to talk about all the details in person.

The meeting between Sophie and the team in this hospital waiting room was expectedly painful. She just listened to their confused, indistinct explanations, looking silently at them one by one. No recriminations, no blame. Although, Greg was ready for it. She had every right to blame all of them. To blame him. But she didn't...

She didn't even cry. Only her paleness, tightly clenched hands and tense posture betrayed her inner turmoil.

_"God, Greg... If yesterday you had not been so selfish, if you made the right choice between your duty and your personal problems, then Sophie wouldn't be sitting here right now in fear for the life of her husband," _he shook his head in despair,_ "And Sam wouldn't suffer guilt, wouldn't think of leaving the group, wouldn't ruin his relationship with Jules. Jules and Spike wouldn't be standing now facing the threat of the destruction of team they used to consider the family. And the most important. Ed. His life wouldn't be endangered..."_ Greg dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his bleary eyes. _ "How are you going to fix it?"_ a voice inside asked him. "_Will you be able to fix it?"_

...

The doctor entered and greeted them.

"And you, I suppose, are Sophie, the wife of Mr. Lane? We talked on the phone with you in this morning," he shook her hand, warmly smiling at her. Then he looked around at all the other, "First of all, Edward's all right. The night has passed quietly. Tissue swelling gradually decreases, the dynamics of his condition are very good. I'm very pleased with how the process is going," he intoned calmly and smile again as he heard the sighs of relief.

"And what about his kidney?" Spike asked worriedly.

"No complications at this point. The results of all tests show gradual improvement. I'm very optimistic about it," Dr. Nolan answered, "Now you obviously want to see him?"

They nodded affirmatively.

"Of course. So ..." the doctor looked thoughtfully at the 6 people standing next to him, "We've rarely let in so many visitors. But sometimes it's possible to make exceptions. Over the next few days, we'll be transferring Ed out of ICU. He should be able to have more company then. But as long as he is in the intensive care, it would be better that he have no more than 1-2 visitors a day, ok?" Doctor Nolan exited the lounge, inviting the others to follow him.

The calm and optimistic mood of the doctor passed to a group and while they followed him in the direction of the ICU they felt that gloomy anxious tension within them gradually recede. If Ed was bad, it's doubtful that the doctor would be so calm?

"Come in," Dr. Nolan stopped at one of the chambers. Translucent doors automatically opened.

Greg entered the chamber first and, stepping inside, involuntarily froze, feeling one of the others run in his back.

"Oh, shit," he heard Spike's frightened whisper behind him.

In the center of the chamber, in the intricate bed, which kept his body in a half reclining position, pale, surrounded by lots of different monitors and tubes was Ed. With a tube that went in his mouth. The bruises on his pale face, which yesterday were not so visible, now darkened in all magnificence, almost completely covering Ed's left cheek, puffy eye and chin with the deep blue-purple color. The same scary bruises were visible from under a white bandage which was tacked to his throat. However, the most frightening was the damn tube that went through the broken lips into his mouth and a quiet hissing as the machine gained the air and sent him in the Ed's chest. Chest rose, paused for a second, then the machine gave a soft click, allowing the air to escape and the chest fell. Then a new hissing and a new cycle of breathing. Mechanical, terrible, frightening spine-chilling process.

Greg felt as if his bones turned to jelly. He caught his breath and forced himself to take a step forward, allowing the rest to come inside. For a moment, they stopped dead, standing at the door, taking in the scene, afraid to move closer to the bed. No, that's not what they expected to see.

Next moment the doctor found himself encircled by anxious and disturbed people and questions showered in a continual stream upon him.

"Doc! Stop. You! You just said that he was all right!" Spike was looming over the doctor and accusingly pointing to the side of the bed.

"Yes, I said so, because he's…"

"Doc, but it's damn far from all right!" Sam tearing his eyes away from the face of a man lying on the bed and stared fiercely at the doctor.

"It's not what you thi..."

Jules grabbed the doctor by one arm, "Dr. Nolan! But why is he unconscious?"

"He's not ..."

Pale Sophie grabbed the doctor's other arm "This machine. Didn't he can breathe by himself?"

"He ..." again the doctor had no chance to answer.

Greg got closer, trying to keep his voice low so as not to be heard by Sophie, but losing control over himself, "Doc, he was not breathing for a while ... tell me honestly, is it possible that there was brain damage?"

"Oh, God, no!" Sophie heard his words and swayed.

"Stop!" the doctor took a step back, quickly placed a plastic chair for Sophie, "All of you, please, take a deep breath and calm down! Mr. Lane is really all right, okay?" he paused, making sure that the situation is under control, then he continued calmly and confidently as before.

"I'm sorry. I should have done this more gently. I said that he is all right because he really is responding well to treatment. Maybe even better than we expected yesterday," He looked at Sophie, "He can breathe by himself. There is no brain damage. But the swelling of the tissue is still intense. And don't forget, there was an operation. This is normal that swelling around the airway remains for some time. Therefore intubation during these first hours is still necessary, " he smiled encouragingly, "And he's not unconscious, it's drug-induced sleep. Breathing with a tube in the throat at a similar type of injury is very uncomfortable and painful, alas. So now it's better for him."

Dr. Nolan went towards Ed's bed," I understand that you were expecting something different. But... He went through injuries, suffocation, internal bleeding, surgery. So at the moment we are keeping him on sedation to give his body the rest and to move in recovery mode. All will be well. This is true. Tomorrow morning we'll wake him up and remove the tube. Next few days we will just observe him. And if there aren't any complications, we'll let him go home to recover. Two or three weeks and your friend will be fine! "

"He's always fine, Doc" Greg replied automatically and scrubbed a hand across his face, trying to regain composure.

The doctor nodded, "Okay. So. Tomorrow morning we plan to extubated him and cancel the drugs that keep him asleep. He will be awake and you can talk. But the first day would be difficult for him, so no more 1-2 visitors, ok? And guys, he shouldn't talk a lot for a few days, maybe only whisper. He himself is unlikely to want to talk much - it will be painful in the beginning, unfortunately. "

"Wow, silent Ed Lane? That's unbelievable!" Spike calmed down a little and found the strength to try to make a joke. Despite his poor attempt at humor, his face remained tight.

The tension in the room slowly dissipated.

Greg sighed, "So guys, then tomorrow only Sophie and me." No one would argue and he continued, "And all of you begin to prepare for the storm of text messages," he said, with a forced smile.

"It will not work" Dr. Nolan pointed to a sign hanging on the wall prohibiting the use of mobile communication.

"I could bring him a laptop with games..." Spike continued pensively.

"Yeah, any shooter," Sam snorted, glumly, "He'll be delighted," he continued to stare, frowning, at the man lying on the bed.

"Sam!" Jules glanced at him reproachfully and turned to the doctor, "Doc, I've heard that people from surgery on the throat are helped by eating ice-cream. Is that so?"

The doctor chuckled, "Okay, guys. I am glad that you have calmed down. You could come and bring him a laptop, games, flowers, ice-cream, whatever. But not tomorrow, ok? Tomorrow Sophie and you, sir, only," he looked at Greg, "Are there any questions?"

They looked at each other. "No, no questions."

"So. If you want, now one of you can stay with Mr. Lane."

"I'll stay," immediately replied Sophie and moved a chair closer to the bed. She sat next to Ed, gently taking his bandaged right hand in her palm.

"OK," the doctor stepped to the door to let the other know that their visit is over, "I have your contact phone number. I'll keep you informed on any possible changes."

...

They left the hospital in silence, with mixed feelings. The fact that Ed's state is stabilized and the optimism of the doctors certainly have significantly improved their emotional state. But yet, to see this always strong hard man so damaged, surrounded by machines and tubes was hard and painful.

Lost in thought, they silently approached the parking lot as Spike suddenly stopped.

"Guys, we've got a day off... How about some coffee?" he suggested, "Coffee, maybe a pizza. Just sit. Talk about," Spike looked around his teammates, "We have a lot to talk about, guys... " he added quietly.

Greg shook his head, frowning involuntarily, folding his arms defensively across his chest. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to participate in any conversation.

Obviously Sam got the similar feeling, because his face instantly closed up, eyes hardened, his whole posture became aloof and defensive.

"Spike's right, guys," Jules appealed to everyone, but only looked at Sam and Greg, "If we let this eat away at us further, it can destroy us completely. Destroy the team. You know what I'm saying? Sarge? Sam?"

Greg sighed heavily. "I'd love to join you ..." He lied and he knew that the others were aware he was lying, "But I have an important meeting in an hour. So ... you go, guys. I'll join you next time, ok?"

"Boss..." Spike said with disappointment. That was not the answer he had been expecting.

"What kind of meeting, Sarge?" Jules asked demandingly, looking suspiciously straight to Greg's face. He couldn't deceive her.

"I have an appointment with Holleran," he said as calmly as he could.

He heard Spike muttered a curse. They immediately understood everything, they don't need any explanation.

"Don't do this, Boss ..." Sam looked at Greg squarely, "You don't have to. You have nothing to feel guilt about!"

Greg said nothing.

"Unbelievable! Boss, you promised that there will not be any conclusions and actions before we all get together and talk!" Jules came closer to Parker, her expression now was almost angry, "Have you forgotten?" She looked at him desperately.

"Jules ... It's not that simple," Greg replied, almost reluctantly, and shrugged not really sure what to say. He could see the worry and concern on her face along with the anger and took a step toward her. But she retreated sharply.

"Just if you ..." she pointed at Sam and Greg, speaking loudly, "If you do anything stupid, such as a request to transfer... or something like that... anything that can destroy this group...I swear! I'll never forgive you for this, do you hear me? " She was breathing heavily, staring fiercely at two men.

Greg lowered his head. Jules is a smart girl. She certainly will understand and forgive him. Someday. Maybe.

Sam also stood silently nearby, face closed and unreadable.

"Damn. Sam, Sarge ! Both of you," Spike spoke quietly, but his eyes were burning with fury, "You both are selfish sons of bitches..."

"Excuse me?" Greg looked up in astonishment, his eyebrows went up. Well, now they were not on duty, they had civilian clothes. Still, say that to the senior in rank bordered on the dangerous zone.

Spike continued, his anger mounted, "Do you think you made a mistake yesterday? I'll tell you. Yesterday's mistake is nothing compared to what you are going to do next."

"Spike, guys… Team One will remain as always. Just with a new overall leader of the group. Ed deserves to be promoted," Greg tried to calm the furious colleague, feeling his own irritation arise in him. He knew that his decision was correct. It's his choice to the benefit of all, for the sake of the security and stability of the group. Why does he have to prove to them these obvious things? "Damn, Spike, this is really not the place and not a time to discuss all of this," he ended with annoyance.

"Boss, are you seriously talking about Ed's promotion?" Spike said as if he hadn't heard the last sentence, "That he will be the boss instead of you? Did you really think he will be happy about this improvement received at such a cost? Knowing that you left the team because of his injury, blaming yourself for it?" he laughed sarcastically.

Greg resisted the urge to stop Spike and managed to keep his face neutral.

"Greg! You have known him for many years. Honestly, do you really think that Ed would take that option? I'm sorry, Boss, but this is just insane. Aren't you afraid to lose your best friend over that?" Spike looked at Greg desperately and indignantly.

"Ed will understand it all," Greg replied quietly, forcing himself to keep his annoyance in check.

"Well, it means Team One also will lose Ed! He will not accept it, Boss, never. Not at this price!" Spike cried out at him.

"Spike, all will be fine. For all of you ..," he looked around Spike, Jules, Leah, Sam ",.. for all of you nothing will change," Greg began quietly, but Jules suddenly interrupted him, laughing bitterly. She stood with her hands folded tightly across his chest.

"Boss, you always taught me that you can't lie during the negotiations. Why are you lying now? You know that everything is going to change! And the team that you and me, all of us consider our family - that this family would not be the same anymore. If you are going to leave, and Sam, Ed ... What's left?"

"It's only me who leaves," Greg replied evenly.

"O God! Enough! I can't stand it!" Jules shook her head in denial. A great lump came suddenly in her throat and her eyes filled with tears. Without another word she turned abruptly and walked quickly to her car, without looking back.

Sam watched her go and then turned to Parker, "Boss, don't make this your fault. I was the first link in the chain of errors, so I must take the consequences. You do not have to leave because of my mistakes," Sam shook his head stubbornly.

"Oh, no ... Here we go again!" Spike groaned loudly, rolling his eyes impatiently, "Sam, yesterday we've finished with this! Please, do not start that again, okay? Nobody is blaming you! It's just not about you at all now!" He did not hide his irritation.

Sam whirled on him.

"I'll decide myself what to say and when to stop, Scarlatti!" He snapped at his colleague, stepping up to him.

Spike didn't back down, staring straight into the Sam's face, "And why would you leave, Braddock? Haven't you always wanted to be a team leader? So, things are going quite well for you! Ed will be commander of the group, you will take the vacant place of tactical team leader!" he declared with surprising fierceness, staring defiantly at Sam .

Sam held his gaze unflinchingly.

"Okay, I know we're all feeling a little short-tempered right now," Parker started forward in his usual role of peacemaker, "Before anybody says anything else they're going to regret, why don't you start taking walks in separate directions, okay?

Spike didn't bother to answer him, refusing to break eye-contact with Sam who did the same.

"What are you implying, Spike? Just say it! Spit it out!" Sam asked in a dangerously low voice, his eyes were narrowing.

"Hey. I'm talking to both of you. Stand down! I mean it! You can save the 'sorrys' for another time!" Greg said much louder now.

Spike still ignored him, addressing only Sam who was standing in front of him.

"And if Ed also decides to leave the team? Then you have a great chance to head up the team, take the place of the boss! Isn't that cool, Samtastik?" Spike stated in an almost accusing tone.

Sam bristled, his face darkened, "You bastard! How dare you!" He grabbed Spike's jacket with both hands, clenching his fists. Spike repeated his movement.

"Enough! Now, both of you! Step back, turn around and walk away! " Greg barked furiously, grabbing Spike's shoulders and pulled him away from Sam at the same time as Leah wedged between two men, pushing Sam away from Spike.

"Hey! You all! Break, okay?" Leah exclaimed , "What's wrong with you all? Are you crazy? What are you doing? Listen to yourself! Hell, no, do not listen!" She made sure that Spike and Sam retreated from each other and looked at the sergeant, "Boss, right now you're still the commander of the group. We all really need to meet and talk. You can't let it all end up like this... "

Greg lowered his head and rubbed at an annoying ache at the back of his neck. Then he nodded grimly. Leah was right. If he was going to salvage this mess, he had to start right now.

"Okay. Tonight at 7, in the Goose," he passed his hand wearily over his face and looked at the three gloomy teammates, "I have to go," he looked at his watch, "Leah, I hope I can depend on you to make certain that these two do not kill each other, okay?" he tried to make a joke, but not having any smile in response, he sighed and shrugged. Then he silently turned and walked to his car.

Sam turned around and without saying a word to anyone walked along the street.

Spike stood motionless, breathing heavily and looking after the departing Greg and Sam. Then he turned to Leah.

"God, Leah! How could I say that crap to Sam?" He looked helplessly at her, there was a real terror in his eyes, "I never thought that way about him! Never, I swear!" In despair, he clutched his fingers through his hair and groaned.

Leah came closer to him, hugging him, "Sam understands everything..."

"He is my friend Leah! My best friend and I just accused him of terrible villainy!" Spike growled, "Almost surely, he'll leave! Confident that his colleagues, his friends think so low of him. And it's all because of me. God, what have I done..."

"Sam will not leave, Spike. And no one leaves, be sure," Leah tightly hugged his friend, feeling the trembling of his tense body, "We'll get through this crisis together, as usual. We will be even stronger and better after that, right? Everything will be okay ..."

_At least, I really hope that it will be just that_, she thought.

Spike shook his head.

"Leah, I can't lose them. Greg, Ed, Sam ... I just ... I can't," he stared straight in front of him with wide opened dark eyes, "So what do we do now? What do I do?"

"Well, now you need to calm down. And at 7 pm get yourself to the Goose," She said quietly.

He nodded. "Yes ... I'm sorry, I just want to be alone now, okay? Take in a walk... "

"Of course, Spike," she smiled at him softly, "See you tonight."


End file.
